







v / 7 Vs sV a c ^ 4 <v ** 

%e> ^ ^ s <p 

~ * :mS^Tr n x 


•^o' 


^ ^ » 


>’ 



s' A° 
„CF s' 


o cS +> 

* ^ •* 

' ** sS G 0 V s'* * r* ^<P 
^ s, ^ *> *p 


%/°* k ' 4 <? ***., % , 
© Xp \ v o ^,/> <V v 

"Z. 



w * 


: ^ 9<s ° 


\ * 


<v ^ 




* ^ °- •- 


^ ^Q, y o * s y. 

^ * o 


*'■ <*, * 


V3 1^ A Cj ^ 

o * x * \V Q^, 

V ^ v o / ^ 


> • ~ ^ 


- V' \< 
° z 


V* <V 

t 


& 


<" V^ V 


& 


* s& *& , 


* * s s ^p> v j, ** s s n 

rO^ s'’V/,>5d. CT ^ 


■s rS* 


-V \P^ 

y ' t P s * 


// ^f> 


* <r 




^ © 




V ^f> 

* ^c$ * 


s' AT 

r O v - s * 41 r 


- :/ °- 


$ 


>_ % 


^ * 


o, % 


S* 


° ^<<r . j 


O 


* # A? % 


* -A 


° c^ o 
**,/ ^ \ 


O c5 V^V 
>? ^ 


' t 0pr* r ^ v ^ ,y^w ~ ^y 

i * * s s <^. ^ v * * s s A^ 

o°^\;i^^> o°v: 


/, <p. 




<* 


% & » 

Qts o 


K 


H o. 


* * 


\ * 0 


* ' "O 


.s ^ 




V ^ 


V * 


*'■■’* ^ %. - o . 

_ *%. V »’ *»» •%> 




o ^tP 




c 5 > ^ ^ 


Co 5 ^ > 

p VA, » 


lS , 


^ ^ -S' A^" ^ 

^Cr s S * * ^/, ■ < <si>. ° C rp N s v v T A _ Q~ r , ^ 

<f X y ^=. v-. » 


> ^ s _ > 

<5-* r° s 


o 


"- '% 0< 


i5 ^ o 




* ^ ALV' t 

. V V" A° 

^ ^ r 0^ ,s-, 



z -V : ' 

* ^ o* c ^ 

^ * 0 , * V 4 ^ 9x^ y 0^^ 7 7 % o 

^ ^^#A. r VG ^Wk r ^ 



^0^ o 


'>k •.• 

‘ '^k <■ Ac 


A ^ \ 


K 


,y 


^ <V ^ J '^ V ’ ' o 1 

S$~ Q5 *■/() , A < "0> y 0 <. x - \v 'cj. 

1 y : mm°* ^ : |P#* ^ ^ - ' 

* <& %> r <& <?- <& %• ■>«-,- . . 

^ '*Wr^. <, V 

<- ■ f ^> (r C5 




5* °* \ 


$ 


£ 


0 v 


a < n * 

* .^> H<-> 0 

\k y 0 , K * A^> ^5. 

V * Y 0 A . *%; V s- \ ft _° ^ ^ 


^-1 C^ 


« < 





° 



^ V * 

r %> A, J 


# % '< 

.^y ^ , 

n+. '* l 6 * S S ^ <r - 

v * * » ><*> -O k v. S * * / . V*k 

s * ^P 0 v s ^ 

tV (V o >4 - "tV O' 


^ 4 * ^ 



* V^, >* 


^ ^ = 
y o 


> 0 V 

r ^ °^ \ 


«$ ^ 
# ^ 


''VL^Vu 0 *W', ^ 

" y **> 4T> <*- jrT&icmi <■ v*: 

*- •% ° x » 


c3 ■>* 

„* 4? •%. % 

*' * * ' s A°^ <* */ *,.s s 

v s •* r . V> 

0° <1 


^0^ 


*, <e* 

^6l(# 


T ^ q^ o 

* \\~ -**> a <L v’ v 

* *> ^ * ay ^ J ,. . •* <xv O 

v>* x* <$? ■ 9 p, 

& * rA^/h r ^ A' 

IV <* -N\ *S5 /rL c V/^ \V . 

^ ^ ^ % wwr - rV - 

' ' % o' * Jill - V d< 


^ <oJ 

** ^ "•♦v 




c3 *V 
>? Vv * 


*,7 Vs s '^ <v'^ 

rv\ s * * / 

o° , s 1a,'^ 


V ^ 0 


tH a 


vV ^ ° 


t, ' ° * ‘ ■* \>^ » 

% V 7 

V»V ^ 2 

aS 

">1* » 


o t> 


>, 

^ °J . . 

4 1 ' . c h " ' ,? ‘, -» ' 1% 

V v s V ' * ^ V \> ,- ■< - 

*, %. a, ,\iM/h.° % ,' ” " “ * ” 

j. = V«v - tiS^IM), ° V K 


o 




cr %' V v %. 


^c) 


£ a 


- ^ ^ °o 


<c 
Q- 

o 

X 
o 

i : ’"'Y.-.% 

C^ A w a- 3 t, ♦ y* ^ 

• :Mh\ V ^ * 

s> -^. 






K 


eiH a 


<y ^ 


\ ^ 


c Cv> 

'*? r. 


* V 


e> % V 


S? <! 




S aG V • 

rVv 4, • ^ ♦ 4 /• ^y 

CV , s V ^ < 


\ "%0< o 


(■}< 


^ O' . o 


K 


£5 ^3* » 


V*’**'* \>^ '*».%’.' 

= ;w- 


^ o ^ ^ "K/^VX^ , * i 

°** V X V ^ v 

v ’■ 



s f v ^ 

^ ' s *“ u V 
•* ^ 





o 


., cS 

. ,,, ^ cN *> 


^ OJ 


d c I 



?1- '“ • k 




< '%o’< 


^ *o 


°0. " ' o". J * \V , 9?, v 0 . i ^ V 

, %, .V *\*»/ ■%. V 


'i * o 























































SCENES IN THE LIVES 


OF THE 


PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS. 









. 










































' 


















. 




































• - 









































Vifc WIL.PDSES1ENTDNG 
















u T I © ® Y 0? E f. JHl/jfl 11 


wuoi «4i‘;-' r/ 


hkbb.cn 


PHILADELPHIA 


t rm 3o § a. r a w » * u * is t o.w» 









SCENES IN THE LIVES 


OF THE 


PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS. 


EDITED BY 

l\0 

r 9 

THE REV. H." HASTINGS WELD. 

ii 


"Bury me with my fathers in the cave 
The Patriarch purchased of the sons of Heth. 
Where Abraham slumbers, and where Isaac rests. 
Where Sarah and Rebekah wait the dawn 
Of the last morning — and where Leah sleeps, 

Leah the tender-eyed, there let me lie — 

I buried her in Hebron." — 

Did the thought 

That Rachel slept at Bethlehem, in that hour. 
Come to the dying man ? He gathered up 
His limbs in decent calmness ; and his spirit. 
Careful no longer where the body tarried. 

Was gathered to his fathers. 

Genesis xl. 29 — 33. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON. 


I f 4-7 



% 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, 

By Lindsay and Blakiston, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of 

Pennsylvania. 


■> 't a 

•> i 

C. SHERMA PRINTER, 


19 St. James Street. 




X 


/ 



A> 


PREFACE. 


It is a grateful evidence of correct and elevated taste, when 
Sacred Poetry is desired by the reading public ; and, in 
answer to the demand created by such a preference, we issue 
our Third Volume of Illustrated Sacred Verse. The themes 
in this book, among the most sublime in the Sacred Record, 
are still many of them those least common to the writers and 
readers of Religious Poetry. We have preferred to well-known 
poems on particular subjects, others less easily accessible. 
From these causes, while the collection may not embrace 
certain pieces of the best, but, from that very fact, most fami- 
liar Sacred Poetry, it will be found, we think, to offer a most 
acceptable addition to that already current among us. Strict 
chronological order in the arrangement was incompatible with 
the proper disposition of the plates. With these remarks we 
dismiss the book to the kind favour of the reader, confident 
that these efforts of the Pencil and the Pen to win attention to 
the subject of all others most important, will be accepted by 
our friends : and trusting, above all, that they may be blessed 
of Him, without whose approval all labour is vain. 

1 * 





































1 















































































ILLUSTRATIONS, 


ENGRAVED ON STEEL, 

BY JOHN SARTAIN, PHILADELPHIA. 


PAGE 

SAUL PRESENTING HIS DAUGHTER WOODFORDE Frontispiece. 

HEBRON BRACEBRIDGE Vignette. 

GOD’S COVENANT WITH NOAH ROTHERMEL 45 

ABRAHAM OFFERING UP ISAAC WESTALL 73 

ARRIVAL OF REBEKAH SCHOPIN 117 

JACOB AT THE HOUSE OF LABAN SCHOPIN 147 

MOSES SMITING THE ROCK MURILLO 181 

ELIJAH FED BY RAVENS CORBOULD 229 


























































































CONTENTS. 

i 


PROEM— “ LET THERE BE LIGHT” 

PROPHECY 

THE FIRST SABBATH 

THE DEATH OF ABEL 

ENOCH 

THE DELUGE 

JEHOVAH THE PROVIDER 

THE BOW IN THE CLOUD 

THE CONFUSION OF TONGUES 

THE PATRIARCHS 

ABRAHAM’S VISION 

MELCHISEDEK 

THE DEAD SEA 

HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS 

THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM.... 

THE HEBREW BARD 

ABRAHAM’S FAITH 


TAGE 

.WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH 13 

.SAMUEL HAYES 17 

.JAMES GRAHAME 28 

.JOHN MILTON 31 

• FELICIA HEM A NS 33 

.JOHN ROBERTS 35 

•WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 44 

• ANONYMOUS 45 

• JOHN MILTON 49 

.THE EDITOR 52 

.GEORGE BALLY 59 

• LYRA APOSTOLICA (34 

•GEORGE CROLY 65 

• N. P. WILLIS 67 

• N. P. WILLIS 73 

.ISAAC WATTS 78 

• LYRA APOSTOLICA 81 


X 


CONTENTS 


EVENTIDE 

THE GOINGS FORTH OF GOD 

JOB 

THE VISION OF ELIPHAZ 

COMPLAINT AND CONSOLATION 
YOUTH AND AGE 
DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH 
ABRAHAM AT MACHPELAH. 

THE DEPARTING SPIRIT 

REBEKAH 

THE SCRIPTURES 
THE BETTER LAND 
THE PROPHET’S DREAM 
BALAAM’S PROPHECY... 

WHO COMETH FROM EDOM 

PALESTINE 

ELIJAH IN THE DESERT... 

THE VINEYARD 
JACOB’S DREAM 

ISAAC 

JACOB IN THE HOUSE OF LABAN 

JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN 

“ HOW OLD ART THOU” 

THE EXODUS 

THE ROD OF AARON 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA 
HEBREW HYMN 

SMITING THE ROCK 

AARON ON MOUNT HOR 


PAGE 


ANONYMOUS 82 

OTWAY CURRY 84 

EDWARD YOUNG 87 

LORD BYRON 98 

THOMAS DALE 99 

WILLIAM KNOX 102 

CHARLES JENNER 104 

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY 113 

ANONYMOUS 116 

ANONYMOUS 117 

EDMUND WALLER 120 

FELICIA HEMANS 122 

JOHN B. DILLON 124 

MISS JEWSBURY 127 

m 

JOHN NORRIS 129 

JOHN G. WHITTIER 133 

LYDIA JANE PEIRSON 137 

ANONYMOUS 142 

GEORGE CROLY 144 

LYRA APOSTOLICA 146 

JULIAN CRAMER 147 

ELIZABETH ROWE 149 

S. D. PATTERSON 155 

SAMUEL HAYES 157 

FELICIA HEMANS 175 

REGINALD HEBER 178 

SIR WALTER SCOTT 179 

RICHARD IIOWITT 181 

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY 183 


MOSES SEEING THE LAND 


LYRA APOSTOLICA 


186 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


THE BURIAL OF MOSES 

THE REPLY OF RUTH 

THE PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN , 

THE MIRACLE AT GIBEON 

DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH 

THE VOICE OF GOD 

THE PROPHETS 

DAVID’S TRIUMPH 

THE CALL OF DAVID 

THE RAISING OF SAMUEL 

DAVID’S LAMENTATION 

ABSALOM 

ELIJAH FED BY RAVENS 

BARZILLAI THE GILEADITE 

SOLOMON’S PRAYER 

THE SHUNAMMITE 

THE TRANSLATION OF ELIJAH 
L’ENVOI 


PAGE 

W. B. TAPPAN 188 

AMANDA M. EDMOND 190 

JOSEPH H. CLINCH 193 

JOSHUA B. VAN SCHAICK 197 

HENRY HART MILMAN 200 

EMILY TAYLOR 205 

THE EDITOR 208 

HANNAH MORE 215 

LYRA APOSTOLIC A 218 

.LORD BYRON 220 

GEORGE SANDYS 222 

N. P. WILLIS 225 

.JAMES GRAHAME 229 

.LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY 230 

•WILLIAM HODSON 232 

.N. P. WILLIS 235 

.ELIZABETH ROWE 238 

• JAMES MONTGOMERY 240 






































































■ 





















































PROEM. 


“LET THERE BE LIGHT.” 

WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. 


I. 

Night, stern, eternal, and alone, 

Girded with solemn silence round, 
Majestic on his starless throne, 

Sat brooding o’er the vast profound — 
And there unbroken darkness lay, 

Deeper than that which veils the tomb, 
While circling ages wheeled away 
Unnoted ’mid the voiceless gloom. 


II. 

Then moved upon the waveless deep 
The quickening Spirit of the Lord, 
And broken was its pulseless sleep 
Before the Everlasting Word! 


2 


14 


“LETTHERE BE LIGHT.” 


“ Let there be Light !” and listening earth, 
With tree, and plant, and flowery sod, 

“ In the beginning” sprang to birth, 

Obedient to the voice of God. 

III. 

Then, in his burning track, the sun 
Trod onward to his joyous noon, 

And in the heavens, one by one, 

Clustered the stars around the moon — 

In glory bathed, the radiant day 

Wore like a king his crown of light — 

And, girdled by the “ Milky W ay,” 

How queenly looked the star-gemm’d night ! 

IV. 

Bursting from choirs celestial, rang 
Triumphantly the notes of song ; 

The morning stars together sang 

In concert with the heavenly throng ; 

And earth enraptured, caught the strain 
That thrill’d along her fields of air, 

Till every mountain top and plain 
Flung back an answering echo there ! 

y. 

Creator ! let thy Spirit shine 
The darkness of our souls within, 

And lead us by thy grace divine 
From the forbidden paths of sin ; 


“LET THERE BE LIGHT/’ 


15 


And may that voice which bade the earth 
From Chaos and the realms of Night, 
From doubt and darkness call us forth 
To God’s own liberty and light ! 

VI. 

Thus, made partakers of Thy love, 

The baptism of the Spirit ours, 

Our grateful hearts shall rise above, 

Renewed in purposes and powers ; 

And songs of joy again shall ring 

Triumphant through the arch of Heaven — 
The glorious song which angels sing, 
Exulting over souls forgiven ! 



SCENES IN THE LIVES 

OF 

THE PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS. 


PROPHECY. 


SAMUEL HAYES. 


For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man : but holy men of God spake as 
they were moved by the Holy Ghost. — 2 Peter i. 21. 

God at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake in time past unto the Fathers by the 
Prophets.— Hebrews i. 1. 

He spake by the mouth of his holy Prophets, which have been since the world began.— St. 
Luke i. 70. 


When the Almighty Fiat, from the gloom 
Of chaos drawn to light had now arrang’d 
The jarring seeds, the last, the most sublime 
Of all his works was Man call’d forth ; to him 
The Sovereign Word gave empire o’er the whole : 
And lest a life without the genial aid 
Of social intercourse should barren prove 
Of real joys, a partner He bestow’d, 

Whose milder converse and endearing love 


2 * 


18 


PROPHECY. 


Might cheer the lonely hour. Their blest retreat 
W as Eden’s groves. “ Of all the trees, save that 
Which in the midst exalts its head, ’tis yours 
To taste ; but if the interdicted fruit 
Y e dare to touch, the deed devotes ye both 
Victims to death;” said that Creative Voice 
Which form’d the spacious globe. — O happy pair, 
Lords of fair Eden’s blooming range, where earth, 
Benignant parent, from her verdant lap 
Spontaneous pour’d immortal sweets, and gave 
W hate’er could minister delight ! too soon, 

Alas ! this scene, was clos’d. Behold them now, 

(So lately rich in happiness, and blest 
With converse of the Living God) o’erwhelm’d 
In misery, and tortur’d by the stings 
Of conscious guilt. — “ The day in which ye dare 
To taste, dooms ye to death.” — Like the dire voice 
Of thunder to benighted travellers, sounds 
The awful sentence. Heav’n’s avenging Judge 
Descends, and ratifies His word. Yet still 
Though rebel guilt calls down dread vengeance, God, 
In mercy as in justice infinite, 

Acts not like tyrant man array’d in pow’r ; 

Celestial justice dooms the erring pair 
To death, yet, ’midst the terrors of the doom, 

Celestial mercy sends a comforter 

To cheer the wounded mind, and dissipate 

Exile’s dark gloom. Though sentenced Adam stand 

To forfeit Eden’s bow’rs, to have the ground 

Accurs’d, by daily labour to provide 

For life’s support; though Eve be doom’d to feel 


PROPHECY. 


19 


The sorrows of conception, bright’ning hope 

Allays the sharpness of their fate: assur’d 

The woman’s seed should bruise the serpent’s head, 

They better can sustain the load. ’Twas this 

Prophetic declaration, that their fall 

Should be aveng’d, which in the trying hour 

Of anguish could alone avert despair. 

Hence pass we on to that accursed age, 

When sin with giant stride through all the world 
Triumphant stalk’d. Chain’d in the servile bonds 
Of fell iniquity, degen’rate man 
To idols bent the prostituted knee. 

By Heav’n’s command th’ accumulated waves 
Of ocean burst their limits, o’er the face 
Of the wide earth rolls the avenging flood, 

And in its gulf o’erwhelmed all, save those 
Whose hearts amidst the universal lapse 
Untainted stand. Then God preserves, restores, 
And having rescued, thus declares : “ No more 
For human sins the ground shall be accurs’d.” 
Hence men, by these vindictive judgments warn’d, 
For many ages walk’d upright, nor swerv’d 
From piety’s straight path. In all that time, 

That golden time, no word of prophecy 
W as giv’n. — But see ! again idolatry 
Erects its head profane ; rebellious man 
In impious error plung’d revolts. Here God, 

To reinstate religion, to call back 
The alienated heart, once more renews 
His saving oracles. The Son of Terah, 


*20 


PROPHECY. 


Led by celestial auspices, from Ur, 

Chaldean Ur, the seat of idols, bends 

His unwilling steps. Tho’ round him num’rous tribes, 

Sworn foes to Heav’n’s dread Ruler, pitch their tents, 

No wayward doubts nor coward fear appal 

The patriarch’s soul. By the bright hope sustain’d 

That in his seed all nations should be blest, 

Calm and unmov’d the delegated seer 
Submissive bends to the eternal will. 

When Israel’s sons in Egypt dwelt, what time 
Temptations numberless assail’d their faith, 

To cherish this immortal hope, and arm 
The breast against the hand of tyrant pow’r, 

Thus Jacob with his dying voice pronounc’d : 

“ The sceptre ne’er from Judah shall depart, 

Nor a lawgiver from between his feet, 

’Till Shiloh come.” 

What hope of this remains 
To Israel ? Pharaoh gives the dire decree, 

That ev’ry male of Hebrew born, to death 
Should be consign’d. But who can counteract 
Th’ eternal will ? What mortal arm oppose 
Th’ immutable decree of God ? Thermutis* 

Now rescues Amram’s son, and for her own 
Adopts him. Spurning the nefarious court 
And all its wanton pomp, he rather chose 
With his own people to endure distress 
And bondage, than be hail’d adopted son 
Of Egypt’s crown. — Why should I here recite 


* The name given by Josephus to Pharaoh's daughter. 


PROPHECY. 


21 


The judgments of offended Heav’n pour’d forth 
Upon the head of Pharaoh 1 How the waves, 
Aw’d by the rod of Moses, overwhelm’d 
Proud Egypt’s marshall’d legions ? — Israel’s sons, 
Beneath the guidance of the Lord of Hosts 
Secure, to Canaan’s promis’d fields direct 
Their steps ; yet ever and anon the soul, 
Revolting from its due allegiance, dares 
In discontented murmurings arraign 
The acts of Providence. With wondrous pow’r 
Endu’d, oft Moses calms the factious crew, 

And leads them to their faith. Him ’bove the rest 
Jehovah favours, unto him declares, 

“ A prophet ’mongst thy brethren will I raise 
In pow’r miraculous like thee ; to him 
Shall all the people with attentive ears 
Incline, for from his sacred mouth My words, 

My hallow’d dictates shall proceed. Whoe’er 
Unmindful of My works by him achiev’d, 

Or swoll’n with contumacy, disregards 
My gracious precepts, him with ruin dire 
Will I extirpate.” 


Onward as we trace 
God’s oracles, Redemption is the point 
To which they all converge. When strong in faith, 
And fir’d with holy zeal to vindicate 
Heav’n’s violated honours, Jesse’s son 
Undaunted sought th’ embattl’d ranks, then fell 
Philistia’s glory ; he, who had defied 
The armies of the Living God, the tow’r, 


22 


PROPHECY. 


The bulwark of the vaunting foe, o’erthrown 
By the weak arm of a derided youth, 

Fell prostrate on the earth. Avenging Heav’n 
Rais’d David to the throne ; nor left him thus 
Without a future hope to calm the hour 
Of death, but gave His never-failing word, 

That from the root of Jesse there should spring 
Perpetual empire. “ When the stated years 
Of life are pass’d, and in the silent tomb 
Thou with thy fathers rest, (Jehovah said) 

Thy seed will I exalt, and on thy throne 
In glory ’stablish it. My mercy ne’er 
From thee will I withdraw; thy kingdom, fix’d 
Upon a base which neither pow’r can shake, 
Nor rolling years subvert, shall ever stand.” 

O goodness infinite ! What could ye less, 

Ye chosen race, than raise to Heav’n alone 
The choral hymn ? What less, than unto Him, 
Whose gracious oracles had thus pronounc’d 
You heirs of such supreme, immortal blessings. 
All honour, praise and majesty ascribe? 

Yet the obdurate heart, of the rich gift 
Unmindful, spum’d the Giver, and ingrate 
Rejected Heav’n’s exalted love. The tribes, 

Th’ apostate tribes, revolting from the laws 
Ordain’d by God, sunk in idolatry. 

On ev’ry hill, and under ev’ry tree 
Vain images erect. To Baal then, 

And unto all th’ ethereal host, they raise 
Their altars, and around the impious fires 


PROPHECY. 


23 


Chaunt orgies to their gods. At length in wrath 
And anger terrible, Jehovah rose, 

And on their guilty heads shot forth the shafts 

Of final ruin, gave them up a prey 

To foreign spoilers. With dread terrors arm’d, 

Stern Shalmaneser pours his num’rous hosts 

O’er Israel’s fertile plains ; Samaria’s walls 

Three years retard the monarch’s course. At length, 

Degen’rate Israel (whom in former days 

The Lord their God had brought with pow’rful hand 

And outstretch’d arm from Egypt’s coasts,) beneath 

Assyrian bondage bow’d. The rebel tribes 

By hostile chains oppress’d, and captive led 

From their own native realms, no more return’d 

To taste the sweets of liberty. Far off 

In Halah and in Habor by the stream 

Of Gozan, and amongst the tyrant Medes, 

Vengeance had doom’d them to perpetual bonds. 

For Judah’s sons far other fates remain’d : 

They captive led to Babylonian pow’r 
Were slaves indeed, but not for ever doom’d 
To bear the galling yoke. When seventy years 
(The term by Heav’n assign’d) had laps’d, that race 
Redeem’d by Cyrus, (whose anointed arm, 

Isaiah had foretold, should blast the pow’r 
Of tyrant Babylon, and from the throne 
Hurl her idolatrous Prince) to Canaan’s fields, 

Their long-lost heritage, return ; there build 
A votive temple, and there still a tribe, 

A separate people they remain, till Rome 
In final ruin Solyma overthrow. — 


24 


PROPHECY. 


Dost thou, O sceptic, say, all this was caus’d 
By chance, that visionary word, by which 
The captious infidel solves ev’ry doubt, 

Solves each event, w 7 hen his perverted mind 
Dares blindly disavow the real cause ? 

But if in this award thou own’st the hand 
Of Heav’n, as sure thou must, should serious thought 
Have aught of influence, tell me whence this tribe 
Above the other exiles stood absolv’d ? 

Was it that they with purer ardour fir’d 
Stood from pollution free amongst the rest ? 

This could not be — Read — Their own annals search, 
And tell, if aught thou find’st in them of good 
To challenge such regard ! Not they themselves 
Were fam’d for holy worship, for more zeal 
Renown’d, than those ill-fated tribes whom Heav’n 
To endless banishment consign’d. Why then 
This partial favour shown to them ? Once more 
The sacred records search, read there the cause : 

“ The sceptre ne’er from Judah shall depart, 

Nor a lawgiver from between his feet, 

’Till Shiloh come.” Here solve thou ev’ry doubt, 
Nor impious call in chance. The blessed seed 
Had been to Judah promis’d — to preserve 
That word inviolate, when Heav’n had doom’d 
The other tribes to everlasting bonds, 

Th’ Almighty King from servitude redeem’d 
The sons of Judah, bade them back return 
To Canaan’s plains, ’till the predicted time 
Should come, when prophecy should be fulfill’d, 

And all the nations of the earth be blest. 


PROPHECY. 


25 


Amidst the dark’ning gloom of adverse fate, 

The scoffs, the triumphs of insulting foes, 

Where was thy refuge, Faith ? In those drear times, 
When Israel bent beneath the servile yoke 
Of heathen tyrants, when Jehovah’s self, 

(Whose tutelary arm so oft of old 
Confounded regal pride, and through the storms 
Of formidable war, in safety led 

The conquering bands) when He throughout their tribes 
Pour’d forth the terrors of o’erwhelming wrath, 

And drove them into exile, from what source 
Did comfort spring ? Amidst th’ involving gloom 
A purer ray shot forth. The hallow’d page 
Peruse, see there unfolded to the view 
In brightest characters, each circumstance 
Of that long-promised seed, to whom all nations 
Should blessings owe. “ Wrapt into future times,” 

The glowing bards unfold Messiah’s reign : 

The time, the place of his auspicious birth, 

His wondrous works, the suff’rings he should bear 
To reinstate apostate man, were all 
In the enraptur’d prophet’s visions shown. 

Though all around distress and bonds appear’d, 
Triumphant faith by these immortal hopes 
Exalted, brav’d the storm, and calm amidst 
Surrounding evils, suppliant and resigned 
Look’d forward to Redemption’s glorious dawn. 

These were the ends of prophecy, that sure 
And stable word, to guide the devious step 
In truth’s bewilder’d path, to raise the soul 


3 


26 


PROPHECY. 


Above external ills ; that guardian ray 
Sent from on high, amidst the gloom to shine, 

And light desponding men, till the day dawn’d, 
And the day-star arose within their hearts. 

When inspiration by the prophet’s voice 
Had open’d to the world the future scene 
Of its salvation, and most clearly mark’d 
The coming of that pow’r, whose works on earth 
Should from primeval sin absolve the soul, 

Ere many years had pass’d away, the gift 
Of prophecy was lost : O proof beyond 
A doubt, that ev’ry oracle of old 
To the same centre tended, and that all 
The promises to God’s selected race 
Through ev’ry age, receiv’d the stamp of truth 
In the appearance of the blessed seed. 

He is the saving, the avenging seed 
Foretold to Adam, who should bruise the head 
Of the insidious serpent ; He that seed 
Promis’d to faithful Abraham, from whom 
On ev’ry nation blessings should descend : 

He is the star, that should from Jacob come, 

The sceptre which from Israel should arise, 

And over Moab’s haughty princes spread 
The judgments of celestial wrath : the son 
To righteous David promis’d, He whose throne 
Should through all ages stand : He is the King 
Who should from Sion rise to endless pow’r. 

Here then the prophecies, which God had given 
To light the lamp of hope in darker times, 


PROPHECY. 


27 


Are perfected ; now Israel’s empire shakes, 

The sceptre now from Judah’s house departs. 

That people once 

So famed, whom God himself vouchsaf’d to call 
His chosen race, and with a guardian hand 
Deign’d to protect, from Palestine exiled, 

Are doom’d to wander ; although scatter’d thus 
Through all the globe, there is no clime which they 
Can call their own, no country where their laws 
Hold sov’reign rule. Irrefragable proof, 

That ev’ry oracle of holy writ 

Was giv’n by Heav’n itself! The wand’ring tribes 

Through the whole earth this evidence diffuse, 

That Christ was that predicted seed, who should 
A fallen world in Heav’n’s lost heritage 
Triumphant reinstate, and, Conqueror 
O’er the dread empire of dethroned Death, 

Bring life and immortality to light. 


THE FIRST SABBATH. 


JAMES GRAHAME. 


And God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it : because that in it He had rested from 
all his work which God had created and made. 


Six days the heavenly host in circle vast, 

Like that untouching cincture which enzones 
The globe of Saturn, compassed wide this orb. 
And with the forming mass floated along 
In rapid course, through yet untravelled space. 
Beholding God’s stupendous power, — a world 
Bursting from chaos at the omnific will. 

And perfect ere the sixth day’s evening star 
On Paradise arose. Blessed that eve ! 

The Sabbath’s harbinger, when, all complete, 

In freshest beauty, from Jehovah’s hand, 
Creation bloomed ; when Eden’s twilight face 
Smiled like a sleeping babe : the voice divine 
A holy calm breath’d o’er the goodly work ; 
Mildly the sun upon the loftiest tree 
Shed mellowly a sloping beam. Peace reigned. 
And love, and gratitude. The human pair 


THE FIRST SABBATH. 


29 


Their orisons poured forth ; love, concord reigned. 

The falcon, perched upon the blooming bough 
With Philomela, listened to her lay ; 

Among the antlered herd the tiger crouched, 

Harmless ; the lion’s mane no terror spread 
Among the careless, ruminating flock. 

Silence was o’er the deep ; the noiseless surge, 

The last subsiding wave of that dread tumult 
Which raged when ocean, at the mute command, 

Rushed furiously into his new-cleft bed, 

W as gently rippling on the pebbled shore ; 

While on the swell the sea-bird, with her head 
Wing- veiled, slept tranquilly. The host of heaven, 
Entranced in new delight, speechless adored ; 

Nor stopped their fleet career, nor changed their form 
Encircular, till on that hemisphere, — 

In which the blissful garden sweet exhaled 
Its incense, odorous clouds, — the Sabbath dawn 
Arose ; then wide the flying circle sped, 

And soared in semblance of a mighty rainbow. 

Silent ascend the choirs of seraphim ; 

No harp resounds, mute each voice is ; the burst 
Of joy and praise reluctant they repress, — 

For love and concord all things so attuned 
To harmony, that earth must have received 
The grand vibration, and to the centre shook ; 

But soon as to the starry altitudes 
They reached, then what a storm of sound tremendous 
Swelled through the realms of space. The morning stars 
Together sang, and all the sons of God 
Shouted for joy ! Loud was the peal ; so loud 
3 * 


30 


THE FIRST SABBATH. 


As would have quite o’erwhelmed human sense ; 
But to the earth it came a gentle strain, 

Like softest fall breathed from iEolean lute, 
When ’mid the chords the evening gale expires. 
“ Day of the Lord ! creation’s hallowed close ! 
Day of the Lord l” (prophetical they sang,) 

“ Benignant mitigation of that doom 
Which must, ere long, consign the fallen race, 
Dwellers in yonder star, to toil and wo.” 


THE DEATH OF ABEL. 

JOHN MILTON. 


And Cain talked with Abel his brother : and it came to pass when they were in the field, 
that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.— Genesis iv. 8. 


Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
Th’ effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
In some to spring from thee, who never touch’d 
Th’ excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir’d, ^ 
Nor sinned thy sin ; yet from that sin derive 
Corruption, to bring forth more violent deeds. 

His eyes he open’d, and beheld a field, 

Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
New-reap’d ; the other part sheep-walks and folds ; 
I’ th’ midst an altar as the landmark stood, 

Rustic, of grassy sord. Thither anon 
A sweaty reaper, from his tillage, brought 
First-fruits ; the green ear and the yellow sheaf, 
Uncull’d, as came to hand. A shepherd next, 
More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock, 
Choicest and best ; then sacrificing, laid 


32 


THE DEATH OF ABEL. 


The inwards, and then fat, with incense strow’d, 

On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform’d. 

His offering soon propitious fire from Heaven 
Consumed, with nimble glance and grateful steam ; 
The other’s not, for his was not sincere ; 

Whereat he only raged, and as they talked, 

Smote him into the midriff, with a stone 
That beat out life. He fell, and deadly pale, 
Groan’d out his soul, with gushing blood effus’d. 
Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
Dismay’d ; and thus in haste to th’ angel cried : 

“ Oh, Teacher ! some great mischief hath befall’n 
To that meek man, who well had sacrificed ! 

Ts piety thus, and pure devotion paid?” 

T’ whom Michael thus (he also moved) replied : 

“ These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
Out of thy loins. Th’ unjust the just hath slain, 
For envy that his brother’s offering found 
From Heaven acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
Will be aveng’d, and th’ other’s faith approv’d 
Lose no reward, though here thou see him die, 
Rolling in dust and gore.” To which our sire : 

“ Alas ! both for the deed, and for the cause ! 

But have I now seen Death ? Is this the way 
I must return to native dust ? Oh sight 
Of terror, foul, and ugly to behold ! 

Horrid to think ! How horrible to feel !” 


ENOCH. 


FELICIA HEMANS. 


And Enoch walked with God : and he was not, for God took him. — Genesis v. 24. 


He walked with God, in holy joy, 

Whilst yet his days were few ; 

The deep glad spirit of the boy 
To love and reverence grew. 

Whether, each nightly star to count 
The ancient hills he trod, 

Or sought the flowers by stream and fount — 
Alike he walked with God. 

The graver noon of manhood came, 

The full of cares ahd fears ; 

One voice was in his heart — the same 
Is heard through childhood’s years. 

Amidst fair tents and flocks and swains, 

O’er his green pasture sod, 

A shepherd-king on eastern plains 
The patriarch walked with God. 


34 


ENOCH. 


And calmly, brightly, that pure life 
Melted from earth away ; 

No cloud it knew, no parting strife, 

No sorrowful decay ; 

He bowed him not, like all beside, 

Unto the spoiler’s rod, 

But joined at once the glorified, 

Where angels walk with God. 

So let us walk ! — the night must come 
To us, that comes to all ; 

We through the darkness must go home, 
Hearing the trumpet’s call. 

Closed is the path, for evermore, 

Which without death he trod ; 

Not so that way, wherein of yore 
His footsteps walked with God. 


THE DELUGE. 


JOHN ROBERTS. 


And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred and fifty days. — Genesis vii. 24. 


White shine the breaking billows, silver foam, 
Prognosticating storm ; the screaming mew 
And rav’nous bittern skim along the brine 
Low dropping, or their pinions half inclose 
In the dark spray ; bright spots of ruddy fire 
Flecker the azure vault, with dusky hue 
Deep-skirted, couriers of the storm — anon 
With furious expedition falls the rain 
Darting impetuous down ; the scowling sky 
Darkness invests, deep doleful shade, one night, 
Night palpable ; save where athwart the gloom 
The glaring vollied lightning served to show 
Sad piteous scenes of horror and dismay ; 
Despairing victims struggling up the elm 
Or ragged oak, and in a moment swept 
By fury irresistible ; some gain 
The rock, and thence with haggard look descry 


36 


THE DELUGE. 


Their wives, their panting children in mid way 
Pursu’d, or dash’d against the pointed cliff, 

Sad sport of whirlwinds. At Thy stern rebuke, 

Lord of the roaring tempest, at Thy voice, 

The waters swift ascend the rough steep cliff ; 

And in the bosom of the vale down sink 
At once : and hark ! the ocean’s thundering gate 
Has burst its hinge, and on the continent 
Disgorg’d its might ; while on the winged storm 
Terror triumphant rides. The dismal dash 
Of wave on wave, loud-howling winds, the earth 
Rent to her centre by a thousand shocks, 

Each shock, a ruin, only sounds the trump 
Of elemental war, a pregnant cloud 
Dilated, like one dark pavilion hangs, 

Dreadful suspense ! then bursts with all its rage 
Collected : cataracts of smoking rain 
Their wild displeasure spend ; earth-delving spouts, 
Swift hurricanes, hails, blasting volleys, land 
Made sea, the sea one wide waste infinite. 

Deep groan the heaving caverns : mineral wrath 
Sublim’d, with nitrous vapour from beneath 
Ascends, and subterraneous thunder shakes 
The solid centre of the teeming earth. 

The spirit of the waters stalks abroad 
Exulting in the storm, and drives the winds 
Transverse along heaven’s champaign, which ’gin blow 
In hardy opposition. He with arm 
Gigantic, and grim joy, troubles the deep, 


THE DELUGE. 


37 


Which rose from earth to heav’n : the lashing surge 
Impetuous rolls, and had a ship been there, 

Devouring winds had torn the crackling mast 
To atoms piecemeal, or had blown it, light 
As buoyant gossamer, between the ridge 
Of riding waves ; an horrible gulf and dark 
Yawns ghastly, and at intervals displays 
A grave of living horror. Hell her gate 
Wide opens ; Satan from his flaming throne 
Shouting upleaps : Hope oh his pale crest sits, 

Short visitant ! with gloomy joy he sees 
The comeliness and beauty of the world 
Ravag’d by mutinous and wasting waves. 

Full forty nights and forty days the rain 
Fell unremitted : mountains, rivers, rocks, 

Sunk in contentious waves. Thy ark alone, 

Of Noah, (so the sov’ran Architect 
Ordain’d,) surviv’d the wreck : nor did that ark 
Want sail or steerage, by an hand divine 
Guided invisible. Of cypress built 
And gopher, buoyant wood, she won her way 
Like some rich merchant’s vessel, laden deep 
With Macao’s spicy freightage: naphtha sheathed 
The hulk, and close asphaltos, unctuous mass, 

From chafing waves, from pungent salt secure. 

“ Cease, rain !” pronounc’d th’ Almighty ; the rain ceas’d. 
Again the fleecy cloud with orient pearl 
Was sown, and glowing sapphire. High the sun 
Rode in meridian glory ; and the waves 


4 


38 


THE DELUGE. 


Subsiding, sunk, as if by gentle stealth, 

Insensible. On Ararat the ark 

Stopt ; from whose brow the patriarch sent his dove, 

Light courier ; she nor green tree found, nor sand 

To rest her printless foot, but hied her home 

With ruffled breast, and plumage sprent with dew. 

What bodes her second embassy ? A shoot 

Of olive, cheerful green, upon her bill 

Shines graceful : trembling haste and eager joy 

Beam from the eye of Noah, as he greets 

The sure criterion of abated flood. 

Again she prunes her wing ; but not again 
To beat her barriers, shall the bird return ; 

No : in the well-known mead, or grove, a nest 
She weaves, and warbles wild her artless notes ; 

Or drinks ambrosial nectar from the rill. 

Now was all nature drest in freshest green, 

Pure from the dregs of grosser earth, which wind 
And wave had swept away. Mild Zephyr sheds 
Refreshing breezes, which the meadows down 
Impress not, as they blow ; so brave a world 
It seem’d, so passing fair, that the eye hung 
Enamour’d of its charms. Thy cautious hand, 

Good Patriarch, wide the lattice of the ark 
Unfolded, curious dome ; upon whose roof 
Was etch’d the chronicle of month and day; 

While the sun, quivering thro’ her sable gate, 

Reflects the gleam of thousand golden plumes, 
Star-spangled insects, eyes of living fire, 

Darting their mingled radiance thro’ the gloom. 


THE DELUGE. 


39 


With mind uprais’d, and firm not hasty step, 

The Patriarch disembarks : white shone his locks, 

The pride of reverend age : and white his beard 
As the fresh snow on Rhodope : his look 
W as joy, chastis’d by temperance and fear. 

Fear, such as wisdom prompts, as angels feel. 

Next with his wife came Shem, whose numerous seed 
O’er Asia swarm. Amid the blazing mines 
Of Coromandel, from the golden stream 
Of Ganges to Siberia’s northern tract, 

Spread the far distant tribes : some pitch their tent 
Where the pale crescent bends o’er Mecca’s shrine 
In Araby ; or where the Persian breath’d 
To Susa’s satraps, and tiara’d kings, 

Soft adulation. Some Sumatra fill, 

And Borneo, cinctur’d by the burning line ; 

Or drive the furious Tartar, savage clan, 

From Pekin’s wall. Who knows but some frail bark, 
From Corea’s amber sea, by thwarting winds 
Into the vast Pacific madly driven, 

Might light on California’s pointed shore ; 

And give to Mexico her feather’d chiefs, 

Long e’er Columbus swept the Atlantic deep ? 

Who lightly vaults along the verdant plain, 

Fresh from the ark 1 Father of distant tribes, 
Illustrious Ham ! for him shall Africa 
Extend her dreary waste of naked sand ; 

Him sire of light Egyptian priests shall hail 
Alorus ; to his name in Lybia’s wild, 


40 


THE DELUGE. 


Suppos’d Ammonian Jove, shall temples rise 
Oracular : from Barca to the Cape, 

Where Capricorn descends in feverous fire, 

His line shall spread : for him shall Niger foam 
With thund’ring torrent, like another Nile, 

And with dark billows desolate the land. 

In order last, not least in fame, descends 
Great Japhet ; destin’d in Europa’s soil 
To lay the seat of many a mighty throne, 
Princedom, and royalty. His polish’d sons 
Shall lead fair science to the bank, where flows 
Ilyssus, classic stream; shall wild flowers strew 
In some Aegean isle, where Homer sung ; 

And draw from Maro’s harp sweet melody, 

To lull Trinacria’s deep. The gothic swarm 
Of Frank, and Vandal, and the blue-eyed host 
That skirt the Baltic, Lapland’s frozen hordes, 
And that fair isle, whose emigrating sons 
Cordon the earth with light and liberty, 
White-cliffed Britannia, from his seed 
Shall rise. 

All these, the progeny, and pride 
Of Noah, disembark’d ; these faithful found 
Among degenerate thousands. Next a group 
Of colours motley and fantastical, 

Were fil’d in rank grotesque, and snuft the air 
With eager appetite. Bird, reptile, beast, 

E’en to the imperial monarch of the wood 
From the poor pismire. Each his element 
Seeks unreluctant : reptiles delve in earth ; 


THE DELUGE. 


41 


The gaudy fluttering insect from the sun 
Kindles the gleam of his transparent wing ; 

The tawny beast explores his sylvan haunt ; 

And birds exulting, lessen in the sky. 

But ah ! what vision lights yon sable cloud, 
Reflecting from the sun’s magnetic beam 
Celestial radiance ? from the silver drops 
Of quivering rain, refracted rays of light 
Drink life, drink lustre ; and in many an hue, 
Break from the showery prism ! some with a faint 
Vibration strike the eye, and mildly sketch 
The violet’s tint, which hems the fringed arch 
Half fading ; some with bold vermilion paint 
Th’ interior side, and twine in radiant spires 
Of roseate hue, which fire the kindling sky ; 

While mellower tints of intermediate light. 

More soft, as more refracted, crown thy green, 
AStherial spring, with the warm burnish’d gold 
Of ruddy autumn : nor unheeded pass 
The cone of tender blue, and bolder line 
Of deep imperial purple. See, it bends 
In bright enchantment ! beauty-mingled maze, 
How shall I right address thee ? Bow of God, 

Or rather faithful witness in the cloud, 

Dost thou delighted hear ? thy gorgeous train 
Sweeps the mid sky, in living lustre clad, 

Half circular. O fear not, earth, again 
To shed thy green luxuriance, nor to play 
Thy artless virgin fancies, wildly free, 

As Nature shall direct; for now mild spring 

4 * 


42 


THE DELUGE. 


And harvest shall repay the labourer’s toil ; 

Now deep shall blush the purple vintage ; low 
Shall bend the clustering fruit’s compliant boughs, 
And laughing Plenty raise her balmy horn. 

Fear not, O earth; contentious waves no more 
With bitter blast shall sweep thy gallant sons, 
Like trembling leaves, away ; thy sure appeal 
Is yon bright curve, thy sure protection, God. 

Oft shall the bright reflection paint the lap 

Of Arcady, w T here old Peneus curls 

His silver wave translucent ; there the swain, 

On sloping lawn, or level down, shall mark 
The gaudy phantom melting into air, 

Of pasture fresh, and gray unclouded dawn, 

Sure presage ! oft shall God gladden the groves 
Of myrrh, and the sweet wilderness of balm 
With showers, and from his gay enamelled bow 
Shed humid fruitfulness ; some aged spire 
Shall rise behind in pensive ivy clad. 

And awful silence crown the lovely scene. 

Far o’er the horizon of the troubled sea, 

What time the storm retires, the bow shall dip 
Its woof in skygrain’d tincture, from the back 
Of some dun cloud emerging by degrees, 

All bright, all vivid : this Philosophy, 
Deep-musing maid, shall oft at eve descry, 

And with her crystal prism contract, dilate 
Its frangible and parti-coloured rays, 

Thy boon, astronomy’s advent’rous child, 


THE DELUGE. 


43 


Sage Newton ! this religion’s votary 

Shall greet with rapture, shall with pray’r pursue ; 

And to his progeny the cause explain. 

“ Rejoice, my son, and on thy heart portray 
Yon mystic characters, that stamp the cloud. 

Once was the world degenerate, once was sunk 
In wasting waters ; but by yon fair bow 
The Almighty swore, that not again should man 
Provoke his vengeance to let tempests loose 
Against this goodly earth. Hence in the cloud 
He checks the mass of waters ; hence rebukes 
The roaring sea, if haply his proud surge 
High swell impetuous ; seals the vast abyss ; 

And locks the fountains of the unfathom’d deep.” 


JEHOVAH, THE PROVIDER. 

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 


Let the field be joyful, and all that ia therein : then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice.— 
Psalm xcvi. 12. 


Author of being ! life-sustaining King ! 

Lo ! W ant’s dependent eye from thee implores 
The seasons, which provide nutritious stores ; 
Give to her prayers the renovating Spring, 

And Summer-heats, all perfecting, that bring 

The fruits which Autumn from a thousand stores 
Selecteth provident ! when earth adores 
Her God, and all her vales exulting sing. 

Without thy blessing, the submissive steer 

Bends to the ploughman’s galling yoke in vain : 
Without thy blessing on the varied year, 

Can the swarth reaper grasp the golden grain ? 
Without thy blessing, all is black and drear ; 

With it, the joys of Eden bloom again. 





























» 










































THE BOW IN THE CLOUD. 


ANONYMOUS. 


And I will establish my covenant with you ; neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by 
the waters of a flood ; neither shall there be any more a flood to destroy the earth. 

And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you, and 
every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations. 

I do set my Bow in the Cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and 
the earth,— Genesis ix. 11, 12, 13. 


Hail ! beauteous meteor of the thousand dyes, 
Emblazoned like a trophy on the skies. 

Heaven’s richest hues inlay thy lightsome span, 
Kindled to glory for a sign to man. 

Those vivid tints that through the welkin shine, 
Proclaim thy matchless Architect divine. 

Gemmed by the rain-drops was the tissue spun, 

With golden threads, irradiate of the sun, 

Like stars enwreathed, whose myriad spangles throw 
The prism’s gay lustre to the world below. 

Weft of mute music thou, whose pictured tones 
Blend in accord, and melt in kindred zones. 

Sweet solace ours, when lurid tempests frown, 

To mark thy gradual braid the horizon crown ! 


46 


THE BOW IN THE CLOUD. 


First, faint brief segments spring on either hand, 
Whence lost abrupt, soon longer curves expand ; 

More massive, high upreared, the glowing form 
In bolder contrast now bestrides the storm. 

Fain its bright column would our arms embrace, 

Yet at each step a fleeting beam we chase ; 

And whilst we fear lest, ere the whole be viewed, 

The subtle vision may our sight elude, 

Mercy, fleet herald from the realms above, 

Buoyed in the ambient air of heavenly love. 

With steadfast key-link binds the quivering arch, 

Then speeds thereon to earth her volant march. 

See ! through the dark depths of the unfathomed main 
The mirrored brilliance softly gleams again ; 

Warning the surges that their ruthless might 
No more shall revel on the mountain height, 

Nor through the fertile banks and valleys rave, 
Engulfing nature in the whirling wave. 

No ! for when ’neath Armenia’s summits hoar 
The shrunken waters lashed their slimy shore, 

And found, whene’er they strove beyond to roam, 

The rising cliffs rebuke their baffled foam ; — 

When the glad fathers of man’s rescued race, 

Exulting on the lone ark’s resting-place, 

Had bent the knee, invoked the Almighty name, 

Drawn votive blood, and fanned the sacred flame ; — 
When o’er fair nature burst that sunny smile, 

More lovely for her glistening tears the while ; — 

Then from the heavens was heard an awful voice, 

That bade the favoured Patriarch rejoice : 


THE BOW IN THE CLOUD. 


47 


Well pleased, the Deity had seen arise 
Prayer mingling with the smoke of sacrifice ; 

And now the solemn covenant He swore, 

That he would flood the new-born land no more ; 

Then rays from heaven with tears from earth He blent, 
And wrote His promise on the firmament. 

View it, vain man, whose dull, unheeding soul 
No cheering hopes, no startling fears control, 

Nor the pale splendour of the moon absorbs, 

Nor the deep rapture of the hymning orbs ; 

Whose sordid thought ne’er searched creation’s laws, 
For the vast goodness of the omniscient Cause, 

Ne’er felt ecstatic joy when laughing May 
Wreathes with young flowers the verdant brow of day, 
Nor owned, with transport chastened, awed, refined, 
Night on the mountain, wonder in the wind : 

Behold ! and though thou deignest nought to bless, 

Yet inly scan thy very nothingness. 

Such thou hast shone, bright rainbow ! when the sky 
Has clothed in clouds its blue serenity ; 

And such shalt shine ; while, grateful for the vow, 

All nations of the earth to heaven shall bow. 

Curbing the tempest on its thunder path, 

Chaining the boisterous billows in their wrath ; 

Majestic symbol of thy Maker’s might ! 

Girdle of beauty ! coronal of light ! 

God’s own blest handmark, mystic, sure, sublime, 
Graven in glory to the end of time ! 


48 


THE BOW IN THE CLOUD. 


Nor dost thou live for earth and time alone : 

In Paradise, around th’ eternal throne, 

Thine emerald lightnings play ; thine every gem 
Is treasured for the Conqueror’s diadem. 

When, with a shout that will earth’s centre rend, 
Christ, with his saints and angels shall descend, 
Careering kingly over sun and star, 

The winds his coursers, and a cloud his car : — 

No watery deluge then earth’s funeral pall, 

But sulphurous flames enwrap the reeling ball. 

Thus thy triumphal banner floats unfurled 
Above the wrecks of this self-ruined world, 

From cloud, from throne, from crown, betokening mild 
Jehovah to lost sinners reconciled. 


THE CONFUSION OF TONGUES. 

JOHN MILTON. 


Therefore is the name of it called Babel ; because the Lord did there confound the language 
of all the earth — Genesis xi. 9. 


This second source of men, while yet but few, 

And while the dread of judgment past remains 
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 

With some regard to what is just and right 
Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace, 
Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
Corn, wine, and oil : and from the herd or flock, 
Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, 

With large wine-offerings poured, and sacred feast, 
Shall spend their days in joys unblamed, and dwell 
Long time in peace, by families and tribes, 

Under paternal rule, till one shall rise, 

Of proud, ambitious heart, who, not content 
With fair equality, fraternal state, 

Will arrogate dominion undeserved 


5 


50 


THE CONFUSION OF TONGUES. 


Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
Concord and law of nature from the earth, 
Hunting, (and men, not beasts, shall be his game,) 
With war and hostile snare, such as refuse 
Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 

A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled 
Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav’n, 

Or from Heav’n claiming second sov’reignty; 

And from rebellion shall derive his name, 

Though of rebellion others he accuse. 

He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 
With him or under him to tyrannize, 

Marching from Eden tow’rds the west shall find 
The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 
Boils out from under ground, the mouth of hell, 

Of brick ; and of that stuff they cast to build 
A city and tow’r, whose top may reach to heav’n ; 
And get themselves a name ; lest far dispers’d 
In foreign lands, their memory be lost, 

Regardless whether good or evil fame. 

But God, who oft descends to visit men 
Unseen, and through their habitations walks 
To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 

Comes down to see their city, ere the tow’r 
Obstruct Heav’n’s tow’rs ; and in derision sets 
Upon their tongues a various spirit, to ’rase 
Quite out their native language, and instead 
To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 
Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud 
Among the builders ; each to other calls, 


THE CONFUSION OF TONGUES. 


51 


Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage, 

As mocked, they storm. Great laughter was in Heav’n ; 
And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, 

And hear the din ; thus was the building left 
Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named. 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


By faith, Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive 
for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. — Hebrews 
xii. 8. 

A Syrian, ready to perish, was my father; and he went down into Egypt, and sojourned 
there with a few, and became there a nation, great, mighty, and populous.— Deuteronomi 
xxvi. 5. 

These all died in faith.— Hebrews xii. 13. 


In the records of the beginning of nations, the wild imagi- 
nations of profane bards and the rude inventions of uninspired 
historians have invested the crudest, most improbable and im- 
possible narratives, with the charm which consecrates folly 
and canonizes fable — antiquity. The question is not, is it 
true , that we may believe, but is it old , that we may reverence. 
One single aim inspires all alike — from the classic fabulist of 
sunny Greece, to the roughest Scald of the cold North. That 
purpose is the deification of human ancestors, the production 
of monsters half-human, half-divine; but, alas for the stum- 
blings of human wisdom ! all brute. Men may set up their 
ancestry as golden images, but the soil of the crucible, and 
the earth of the mould cling to the molten calf; yet in the 
vain pride of patriotic idolatry man “ feedeth on ashes ; a de- 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


53 


ceived heart hath turned him aside, that he cannot deliver his 
soul, nor say : Is there not a lie in my right hand V 9 

But when we turn from these traditions to Holy Scripture, 
we find Him manifest in His word, as in His works, whose 
ways are not as our ways, nor whose thoughts as our 
thoughts. A simple and unadorned, but majestic narrative 
is that of the creation. He who in the beginning said, “ Let 
there be light !” asserts His awful grandeur and power in the 
relation which inspiration dictated to Moses. If the deeds of 
men are to be spoken of, they require the prelude and flourish 
of sounding words ; but Omnipotence, who spake and it was 
done, is only hidden from us and obscured by the mist which 
human inventions weave over our own eyes. We painfully 
labour, but in vain, to define the Idea of the Eternal. He is 
the Incomprehensible, and to strive to know Him otherwise 
than as faith directs, as the Being who is, and who is the re- 
warder of such as diligently seek Him, is to make unto our- 
selves an Image. It was thus that the ancients turned the 
Incorruptible into the image of the corruptible. It was thus 
that they represented the Invisible in the hideous fancies of 
their debased imaginations. Thus grew the painfully ridicu- 
lous accounts of the beginning, in which fables were asserted 
relative to the creation, which debased the Creator below the 
contempt of the thoughtful, and below the respect of the 
foolish. Socrates, in such an age, could not be less than 
an infidel ; the multitude could not be other than bigots who 
blindly persecuted, or cowards who feared, in ranking with 
the sage, to come under the condemnation of the simple. 

The folly which made God like man, made men gods ; and 
thence the divine origin of nations to which we have already 
alluded. It is pitiful to read by what debasing fables the race 


5 * 


54 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


has been traced to its divine original; how disgustingly the 
deities of the ancient world, who “ knew not God,” are 
painted, as beings who, were they alive on earth, would be 
not only in danger of the judgment, but unworthy of the tole- 
rance of honest men — and still divine! How refreshing to 
the soul the contrast which the inspired oracles present — 
ennobling man’s piety while rebuking his pride. And how 
natural, true, and consonant with the perfection of God, and 
with the conscious weakness and frailty of man, is the only 
true history of the origin of a people, which has been handed 
down to us by Moses and his successors. How full of reproof 
to the pride which is ever seeking to establish man’s divinity, 
at the expense of Heaven’s purity ; how simply true and elo- 
quently humble is the declaration, with which the Israelite was 
directed to preface his offering of the first fruits : A Syrian, 
ready to perish, was my father ! 

Through the whole narrative of the rise of Israel, from the 
day on which they rebelled, even while God was working 
wonders in their behalf in Egypt, down to the hour when they 
crucified the son of God, the same elements of divine truth in 
the narrative are apparent. The mighty of Israel are not 
gods, but men. Their errors, imperfections, crimes are re- 
lated with a simplicity and directness which makes us under- 
stand that it was not the superior power and wisdom, the 
courage, or excellence of these feeble creatures which accom- 
plished the great work, but God, who with a mighty hand and 
a stretched-out arm wrought wonders in Israel. The same 
wisdom which concealed the grave of Moses, lest an idola- 
trous people should make his tomb a shrine, revealed the 
weaknesses of the patriarchs, lest men should have whereof 
to boast, and substitute the worship of the creature for that 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


55 


of the Creator. And when the perverse Jews boasted of their 
descent from the son of Terah, He who spake as never man 
spake, told them that this was nothing in His eyes, who could 
out of the stones raise up children to Abraham. 

Thus, though infidelity has not failed to discover, in the 
faults and failings of the patriarchs and mighty men of Israel, 
the ground for carping and objection, the believer discovers in 
the same circumstance the evidence of the divinity of the 
inspiration of the narrative. It is not the history of a people 
whose obsequious poets and orators are seeking to celebrate 
the fame of their nation ; but it is the memorial which Heaven 
has preserved for our instruction. With every year its hidden 
wisdom is more and more revealed. Time, the great ex- 
pounder of revelation, brings forward in every age new 
events as notes and explanatory comments on the sacred 
page ; and thus shall it be until time shall be no longer, and 
the blessed in Heaven shall fully comprehend, with all know- 
ledge, the pointing forward of the dispensations before the 
coming of Christ to the fulfilment of the law and the prophets, 
in Him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write. 
Other works grow obsolete with the march of time, or are 
displaced by the discoveries of modern advancement ; but the 
Holy Bible, dating back in its early portions thousands of 
years, has outlived the wisdom of successive generations, and 
still remains perfect, intact and pre-eminent over all other 
Scriptures, while school after school of human wisdom has 
risen only to develope its own inefficiency, and to vanish from 
the memory and the thoughts of men. 

The jealous care with which the Jewish nation preserved 
their Scriptures uncorrupted and free from addition, leaves 
them in the stern and noble simplicity in which they were first 


56 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


written. Every word may be declared prophetic; for what 
else can be said of books which, as ages pass, prove only 
more and more adapted to the wants of succeeding genera- 
tions? As God made the world for all the people who shall 
inhabit it, so He inspired the Scriptures for all who shall read 
them ; and as the most wonderful successes of the investiga- 
tions of science only serve to show us how little we know of 
the arcana of nature, so do advances in biblical knowledge, 
and, still more, progress in spiritual discernment, only serve to 
exhibit how less than nothing is the mind of man, when it 
seeks to cope with the revelations of Omnipotence. 

Patriarchs, princes, people, in God’s word, are to us appre- 
ciable human beings. The oldest come not down to us in 
shadows, impalpable and dreamy, but are men with whom 
we can sympathize and feel, as though they were contempora- 
ries. In Holy Writ men, whether princes or peasants, are 
men still ; they have human virtues, temptations, follies, vices. 
Princes are presented to us as God looked down upon them 
from heaven, not as man looked up to them from earth ; and 
the poor and lowly among men are pictured to us as God 
regarded, and not as man despised them. To this great 
source then should all repair for wisdom ; to this unerring test 
of truth should we bring our boasted knowledge, holding all as 
of but evanescent worth which bears not upon the abiding 
interests and the great concerns which are contained in the 
Word of Truth: some like the hidden golden ore which rests 
in the bosom of the earth yet undiscovered, other like the 
beams of the glorious sun, which openly declare His love 
who made the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser to 
rule the night. 

We might essay to describe the lives and characters of the 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


57 


Old Testament worthies ; but the plain and simple narrative 
of their lives is already written in the Book to which all have 
access ; and if we seek a review of their lives and histories, it 
is already drawn in the glowing language of the apostle Paul, 
in his epistle to his countrymen. With him we can plead that 
time would fail to tell of those who, through faith, “ subdued 
kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped 
the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the 
edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed 
valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. 
Women received their dead restored to life again; and others 
were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might 
obtain a better resurrection; and others had trial of cruel 
mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and impri- 
sonment : they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were 
tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about 
in sheep-skins and goat- skins ; being destitute, afflicted, tor- 
mented; (of w 7 hom the world was not worthy;) they wan- 
dered in deserts and in mountains, and in dens and caves of 
the earth. And these all, having obtained a good report 
through faith, received not the promise ; God having provided 
some better thing for us, that they without us should not be 
made perfect.” 

Thus, with Him to whom a thousand years are as one day, 
are we, of this era, contemporary with the Patriarchs, who so 
many ages since, and under phases of life so different from 
ours, were shepherds and pilgrims beneath the Syrian skies. 
They without us were not made perfect ; we with them are 
co-labourers in God’s hand in an Eternal Present ; and to all 
nations and kindreds, all eras and dates, shall the same reve- 
lation come of the purposes of Omniscience, when, in an in- 


58 


THE PATRIARCHS. 


stant, in the twinkling of an eye we shall all be changed. The 
hoary Patriarch is our elder brother — the dim past shall here- 
after be to us as the morning of our own day. And then, 
under whatever influence, and in whatever age we shall have 
lived ; under whatever temptations and sorrows we may have 
passed, the test of brotherhood with those of whom the world 
was not worthy will be, whether we may be classed among 
them of whom it shall be found written in the Lamb’s Book of 
Life, “ These all died in Faith.” 




ABRAHAM’S VISION. 


GEORGE BAELY. 

And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abraham ; and lo! an horror of 
great darkness fell upon him. 

And He said unto Abram, “ Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land 
that is not theirs and shall serve them ; and they shall afflict them four hundred years; 

“And also that nation whom they shall serve, will I judge: and afterwards shall they 
come out with great substance.”— Genesis xv. 12, 13, 14. 


Too short is Reason’s line to sound the depths 
Of heav’nly wisdom ; rash her censure too, 

When she presumes to cavil at His ways, 

Who oft obliquely to th’ intended goal 
His steady but meand’ring course directs, 

Makes opposites harmoniously combine, 

His grand eventful counsels to mature, 

That man, by common notices unmov’d, 

By admiration may be taught to fear. 

He, who this complex mass of wonders call’d 
From chaos, and from darkness launch’d those lights 
That gild the fluid ether, ofttimes bids 
Midst the well-temper’d strife of jarring wills 
Order from tumult break, from evil good. 




60 


ABRAHAM’S VISION. 


He reins the fury of the waves, and bounds 
The rage of man, and makes the friendly storm 
Drive when He lists the vessel into port. 

Abasement by His guidance shall exalt, 

Disgrace ennoble, and misfortunes bless. 

See base ungen’rous envy swell the breasts 
Of Israel’s sons : see Joseph for a dream, 

Typic of future greatness, doom’d to feel 
The rigours of fraternal hate. And can 
Such venom’d hate in kindred bosoms dwell ? 

How shall defenceless innocence escape 
Impendent death, when savage brethren lift 
The murd’rous steel 1 Prevailing nature melts 
Reuben’s soft heart, arrests the bloody deed, 

And heaven-directed Ishmaelites convey 
To distant climes the purchas’d spoil, than all 
Their spicy wealth more precious. Pharian realms 
Receive the sacred charge, the patriarch’s hope. 
Vanish the clouds, the welkin brightens round, 
Illusive prospect ! soon new woes succeed : 

A lovesick mistress smiles, and fortune frowns. 

To slighted charms and womanish revenge 
Th’ innoxious youth falls an unpity ’d prey, 

And in a dungeon’s gloom his pious soul 
Pours to his God in pray’r, nor prays in vain, 

For now the mystic web of Providence 
Gradual unfolds, shades soften into light, 

And on th’ admiring eye coherence dawns. 

The rage of brethren and th’ opprobrious sale 
Conspire to realize his dream : the wife 


ABRAHAM’S VISION. 


01 


Of Potiphar unconscious weaves the meed, 

And calumny to honour smooths the way. 

Quick shifts the scene : the dungeon for a throne 
Is chang’d. The Hebrew next to Egypt’s king, 

In all the pride of regal pomp array’d, 

Shines through the land of Nile rever’d, and lives 
To cherish Israel’s drooping age, to pant 
With filial transport on the patriarch’s breast, 

Big with tumultuous joy. His brethren round, 
Sheaves of his dream, in marshall’d order stand, 

And pay obeisance to his sheaf, that rears 
Its head aloft, and triumphs in its height. 

Great is the Lord Jehovah, high above 
The loftiest flight of raptur’d praise ; His throne 
Is built on equity’s broad base ; His arm 
(Though oft invisible to mortal ken) 

Is ever stretch’d to prop the sinking good, 

Or crush the wicked. Not a wheel amongst 
Th’ infinite orbs, which roll the fates of man 
And kingdoms in their rapid whirl, but glows 
Distinct with eyes, and in a measur’d course 
Harmonious verges to some certain goal. 

See ! the fond mother takes her sad adieu, 

And slow receding casts a tearful glance 
Where floats the rush- wove ark : to calm her grief, 
To give her darling to her throbbing breast, 

The Memphian princess speeds, and (Heav’n so wills) 
Nurtures in wisdom’s lore the youth ordain’d 
Israel to free, and humble Pharaoh’s pride. 


6 


62 


ABRAHAM’S VISION. 


When artful malice broods o’er dark revenge, 
When stern oppression frowns, and ills surround, 

Let not the good despair, but rest secure 
Beneath Adonai’s shadowing wing. His eye 
Beholds, His outstretched arm conducts their steps 
Through death’s encircling horrors ; and when broke 
Each feeble anchor, when the tenth wave rolls 
Its gather’d ruin, plucks them from the deep. 

Nor let them murmur, though their way be oft 
Perplext with briers, and with crags o’erhung, 

But onwards press unfainting to the goal, 

Where, to o’erpay their momentary toil. 

Applauding angels hold th’ unwith’ring wreath 
Of beatific joy. From ardent lips 
Let the sweet incense of melodious praise 
Ascend to Him who visits all His works, 

But chief the son of man. 


Pow’r Infinite ! 

Thou Giver and Preserver of my being, 

Who rul’st all causes, govern’st all events, 

O teach me ever to Thy will resign’d 
To bear my lot with patience, and esteem 
That best which Thou ordain’st. In weal or wo, 
In health or sickness, let me ne’er forget 
Thy mercies : even in Thine afflictive rod 
May I a father’s tenderness adore, 

Who chastens but to heal, in wrath benign ! 

Avert those ills that hover o’er my head, 

And with Thy shield encompass all my paths. 

Of earthly goods that portion Thou assign 


ABRAHAM’S VISION. 


63 


Which with my present and my future bliss 
May best accord ; and grant this humble strain 
May be a prelude to that nobler song. 

Which by Thy grace, this dreary veil past through, 
My soul, with brighter views of Providence 
Illum’d, and kindling from a near access, 

Shall chaunt responsive to th’ Angelic Choir. 


LYRA APOSTOLIC A. 


Without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days, 
end of life. — Hebrews vii. 3. 


Thrice blest are they who feel their loneliness ; 

To whom nor voice of friend nor pleasant scene 
Brings that on which the saddened heart can lean ; 
Yea, the rich earth, garbed in its daintiest dress 
Of light and joy, doth but the more oppress. 

Claiming responsive smiles, and rapture high ; 

Till, sick at heart, beyond the veil they fly, 

Seeking His presence, who alone can bless. 

Such in strange days the weapons of Heaven’s grace ; 
When, passing o’er the highborn Hebrew line, 

He forms the vessel of his vast design ; 

Fatherless, homeless, reft of age and place, 

Severed from earth, and careless of its wreck, 

Born through long wo, His rare Melchisedek. 


THE DEAD SEA. 

GEORGE CROLY. 

And he overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and 
that which grew upon the ground. * * * Lo the smoke of the country went up, as the 
smoke of a furnace.— Genesis xix. 25, 28. 


The wind blows chill across those gloomy waves; 

Oh ! how unlike the green and dancing main ! 
The surge is foul, as if it rolled o’er graves : 
Stranger ! here lie the Cities of the Plain. 


Yes, on that plain, by wild waves covered now, 

Rose palace once, and sparkling pinnacle ; 

On pomp and spectacle beamed morning’s glow, 

On pomp and festival the twilight fell. 

Lovely and splendid all — but Sodom’s soul 

Was stained with blood, and pride, and perjury; 

Long warned, long spared, till her whole heart was foul, 
And fiery vengeance on its clouds came nigh. 


6 * 


66 


THE DEAD SEA. 


And still she mocked, and danced, and taunting spoke 
Her sportive blasphemies against the Throne : 

It came ! — the thunder on her slumber broke — 

God spake the word of wrath ! — her dream was done. 

Yet, in her final night, amid her stood 

Immortal messengers, and pausing Heaven 
Pleaded with man ; but she was quite imbued, 

Her last hour waned — she scorned to be forgiven. 

’Twas done ! down poured at once the sulphurous shower, 
Down stooped, in flame, the heaven’s red canopy. 

Oh for the arm of God, in that fierce hour ! 

’Twas vain, nor help of God or man was nigh. 

They rush, they bound, they howl, the men of sin ; 

Still stooped the cloud, still burst the thicker blaze ! 

The earthquake heaved ! — then sank the hideous din ! — 
Yon wave of darkness o’er their ashes strays. 


HA GAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 

' \ 

N. P. WILLIS. 

And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took bread, and a bottle of water, and 
gave it unto Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, and the child, and sent her away : and she 
departed, and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba. 

And the water was spent in the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the shrubs. 

And she went and sat her down over against him, a good way off, as it were a bow-shot: 
for she said, “ Let me not see the death of the child.” And she sat over against him, and 
lifted up her voice and wept. 

And God heard the voice of the lad : and the Angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, 
and said unto her, “ What aileth thee, Hagar? Fear not ; for God hath heard the voice of 
the lad where he is. 

“ Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thy hand: for I will make him a great nation.” 

And God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water; and she went and filled the bottle 
with water, and gave the lad drink.— Genesis xxi. 14-19. 


The morning broke. Light stole upon the clouds 
With a strange beauty. Earth received again 
Its garment of a thousand dyes ; and leaves, 

And delicate blossoms, and the painted flowers, 
And everything that bendeth to the dew, 

And stirreth with the daylight, lifted up 
Its beauty to the breath of that sweet morn. 

All things are dark to sorrow ; and the light 
And loveliness, and fragrant air were sad 


68 HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 

To the dejected Hagar. The moist earth 
Was pouring odours from its spicy pores, 

And the young birds were singing, as if life 
Were a new thing to them ; but oh ! it came 
Upon her heart like discord ; and she felt 
How cruelly it tries a broken heart 
To see a mirth in anything it loves. 

She stood at Abraham’s tent. Her lips were pressed 
Till the blood started ; and the wandering veins 
Of her transparent forehead were swelled out, 

As if her pride would burst them. Her dark eye 
Was clear and tearless, and the light of heaven, 
Which made its language legible, shot back, 

From her long lashes, as it had been flames 
Her noble son stood by her, with his hand 
Clasped in her own, and his round delicate feet, 
Scarce trained to balance on the tented floor, 
Sandaled for journeying. He had looked up 
Into his mother’s face until he caught 
The spirit there, and his young heart was swelling 
Beneath his dimpled bosom, and his form 
Straightened up proudly in his tiny wrath, 

As if his light proportions would have swelled, 

Had they but matched his spirit, to the man. 

Why bends the patriarch, as he cometh now 
Upon his staff so wearily? His beard 
Is low upon his breast, and his high brow, 

So written with the converse of his God, 

Beareth the swollen vein of agony. 

His lip is quivering, and his wonted step 


HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 


69 


Of vigour is not there ; and though the morn 
Is passing fair and beautiful, he breathes 
Its freshness as it were a pestilence. 

Oh ! man may bear with suffering : his heart 
Is a strong thing, and godlike, in the grasp 
Of pain that w T rings mortality ; but tear 
One chord affection clings to — part one tie 
That binds him to a woman’s delicate love — 

And his great spirit yieldeth like a reed. 

He gave to her the water and the bread, 

But spoke no word, and trusted not himself 
To look upon her face, but laid his hand 
In silent blpssing on the fair-haired boy, 

And left her to her lot of loneliness. 

Should Hagar weep ?. May slighted woman turn, 
And, as a vine the oak hath shaken off. 

Bend lightly to her leaning trust again ? 

Oh no ! By all her loveliness — by all 
That makes life poetry and beauty, no ! 

Make her a slave ; steal from her rosy cheek 
By needless jealousies ; let the last star 
Leave her a watcher by your couch of pain ; 

Wrong her by petulance, suspicion, all 
That makes her cup a bitterness — yet give 
One evidence of love, and earth has not 
An emblem of devotedness like hers. 

But oh ! estrange her once — it boots not how— 

By wrong or silence — anything that tells 
A change has come upon your tenderness, — 


70 


HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 


And there is not a feeling out of heaven 
Her pride o’ermastereth not. 

She went her way with a strong step and slow — 

Her pressed lip arched, and her clear eye undimmed, 

As if it were a diamond, and her form 

Borne proudly up, as if her heart breathed through. 

Her child kept on in silence, though she pressed 
His hand till it was pained ; for he had caught, 

As I have said, her spirit, and the seed 
Of a stern nation had been breathed upon. 

The morning past, and Asia’s sun rode up 
In the clear heaven, and every beam was heat. 

The cattle of the hills were in the shade, 

And the bright plumage of the orient lay 
On beating bosoms in her spicy trees. 

It was an hour of rest ! but Hagar found 

No shelter in the wilderness ; and on 

She kept her weary way, until the boy 

Hung down his weary head, and opened his parched lips 

For water ; but she could not give it him. 

She laid him down beneath the sultry sky, — 

For it was better than the close hot breath 
Of the thick pines, — and tried to comfort him ; — 

But he was sore athirst, and his blue eyes 
Were dim and bloodshot, and he could not know 
Why God denied him water in the wild. 

She sat a little longer, and he grew 
Ghastly and faint, as if he would have died. 

It was too much for her. She lifted him, 


HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 


71 


And bore him farther on, and laid his head 
Beneath the shadow of a desert shrub ; 

And shrouding up her face, she went away, 

And sat to watch, where he could see her not, 

Till he should die ; and watching him she mourned : 

“ God stay thee in thine agony, my boy ! 

I cannot see thee die, I cannot brook 
Upon thy brow to look, 

And see death settle on my cradle joy. 

How have I drunk the light of thy blue eye ! 

And could I see thee die ! 

“ I did not dream of this when thou wast straying, 
Like an unbound gazelle, among the flowers ; 

Or wiling the soft hours, 

By the rich gush of water-sources playing, 

Then sinking weary to thy smiling sleep, 

So beautiful and deep. 

“ Oh no ! and when I watched by thee the while, 

And saw thy bright lip curling in thy dream, 

And thought of the dark stream 
In my own land of Egypt, the far Nile, 

How prayed I that my father’s land might be 
A heritage for thee ! 

“ And now the grave for its cold breast hath won thee, 
And thy white, delicate limbs the earth will press ; 

And oh ! my last caress 


72 


HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 


Must feel thee cold, for a chill hand is on thee. 
How can I leave my boy, so pillowed there 
Upon his clustering hair !” 

She stood beside the well her God had given 
To gush in that deep wilderness, and bathed 
The forehead of her child, until he laughed 
In his reviving happiness, and lisped 
His infant thought of gladness at the sight 
Of the cool plashing of his mother’s hand. 






A B IS AM A m © F IF p 08 0 N © U IP 0 










THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. 


N. P. WILLIS. 


Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee unto the land of 
Moriah ; and offer him there for a burnt-offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell 
thee of. — Genesis xxii. 2. 


Morn breaketh in the east. The purple clouds 
Are putting on their gold and violet, 

To look the meeter for the sun’s bright coming. 
Sleep is upon the waters and the wind ; 

And nature, from the very forest leaf 
To her majestic master, sleeps. As yet, 

There is no mist upon the deep blue sky, 

And the clear dew is on the blushing bosoms 
Of crimson roses in a holy rest. 

How hallowed is the hour of morning ! meet — 
Ay, beautifully meet for the pure prayer. 

The patriarch standeth at his tented door, 

With his white locks uncovered. ’Tis his wont 
To gaze upon that gorgeous orient ; 

And at that hour the awful majesty 
Of man who talketh often with his God, 


7 


74 


THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. 


Is wont to come again, and clothe his brow 

As at his fourscore strength. But now, he seemeth 

To be forgetful of his vigorous frame, 

And boweth to his staff, as at the hour 
Of noontide sultriness. And that bright sun — 

He looketh at his pencilled messengers 
Coming in golden raiment, as if all 
Were but a graven scroll of fearfulness. 

Ah, he is waiting till it herald in 

The hour to sacrifice his much-loved son ! 

Light poureth on the world. And Sarah stands 
Watching the steps of Abraham and her child 
Along the dewy sides of the far hills, 

And praying that her sunny boy faint not. 

Would she have watched their path so silently, 

If she had known that he w 7 as going up, 

Ev’n in his fair-haired beauty, to be slain 
Asa white lamb for sacrifice ? They trod 
Together onward, patriarch and child — 

The bright sun throwing back the old man’s shade 
In straight and fair proportions, as of one 
Whose years were freshly number’d. He stood up 
Tall in his vigorous strength ; and, like a tree 
Rooted in Lebanon, his frame bent not. 

His thin white hairs had yielded to the wind, 

And left his brow uncovered ; and his face, 
Impress’d with the stern majesty of grief 
Nerved to a solemn duty, now stood forth, 

Like a rent rock, submissive, yet sublime. 

But the young boy — he of the laughing eye 


THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. 


75 


And ruby lip — the pride of life was on him ; 

He seemed to drink the morning. Sun and dew, 
And the aroma of the spicy trees, 

And all that giveth the delicious East 
Its fitness for an Eden, stole like light 
Into his spirit, ravishing his thoughts 
With love and beauty. Everything he met, 
Buoyant or beautiful, the lightest wing 
Of bird or insect, or the palest dye 
Of the fresh flowers, won him from his path ; 

And joyously broke forth his tiny shout, 

As he flung back his silken hair, and sprung 
Away to some green spot or clustering vine. 

To pluck his infant trophies. Every tree 
A nd fragrant shrub was a new hiding-place ; 

And he w r ould crouch till the old man came by, 
Then bound before him, with his childish laugh, 
Stealing a look behind him playfully, 

To see if he had made his father smile. 

The sun rode on in heaven. The dew stole up 
From the fresh daughters of the earth, and heat 
Came like a sleep upon the delicate leaves, 

And bent them, with the blossoms, to their dreams. 
Still trod the patriarch on, with that same step, 
Firm and unfaltering ; turning not aside 
To seek the olive shades, or lave their lips 
In the sweet waters of the Syrian wells, 

Whose gush hath so much music. Weariness 
Stole on the gentle boy, and he forgot 
To toss his sunny hair from off his brow, 


76 


THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. 


And spring for the fresh flowers and light wings, 
As in the early morning ; but he kept 
Close by his father’s side, and bent his head 
Upon his bosom, like a drooping bud, 

Lifting it not, save now and then to steal 
A look up to the face whose sternness awed 
His childishness to silence. 


It was noon — 

And Abraham on Moriah bowed himself. 

And buried up his face, and prayed for strength. 

He could not look upon his son and pray ; 

But, with his hand upon the clustering curls 
Of the fair, kneeling boy, he prayed that God 
Would nerve him for that hour. Oh ! man was made 
For the stern conflict. In a mother’s love 
There is more tenderness ; the thousand chords. 
Woven with every fibre of her heart, 

Complain, like delicate harp-strings, at a breath ; 

But love in man is one deep principle, 

Which, like a root grown in a rifted rock, 

Abides the tempest. He rose up and laid 
The wood upon the altar. All was done. 

He stood a moment — and a deep quick flush 
Passed o’er his countenance ; and then he nerv’d 
His spirit with a bitter strength, and spoke — 

“ Isaac, my only son !” — The boy looked up. 

And Abraham turned his face away and wept. 

“ Where is the lamb, my father V* — Oh, the tones, 

The sweet, the thrilling music of a child ! — 

How doth it agonize at such an hour ! — 


THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. 


77 


It was the last deep struggle. Abraham held 
His loved, his beautiful, his only son, 

And lifted up his arm, and called on God — 
And lo ! God’s angel stayed him — and he fell 
Upon his face and wept. 


7 * 


THE HEBREW BARD. 

ISAAC WATTS. 

I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old : 

Which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us. 

We will not hide them from their children, showing to the generation to come the praises 
of the Lord, and his strength, and the wonderful works that he hath done. 

For he established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel. — Psalm lxxviii. 
2-5, and following verses. 


Softly the tuneful shepherd leads 
The Hebrew flocks to flowery meads ; 

He marks their path with notes divine, 
While fountains spring with oil and wine. 

Rivers of peace attend his song, 

And draw their milky train along : 

He jars, and lo ! the flints are broke, 

But honey issues from the rock. 

When kindling with victorious fire, 

He shakes his lance across the lyre ; 

The lyre resounds unknown alarms, 

And sets the thunderer in arms. 


THE HEBREW BARD. 


79 


Behold the God ! the Almighty King, 
Rides on a tempest’s glorious wing ; 
His ensigns lighten round the sky, 
And moving legions sound on high. 


Ten thousand cherubs wait His course, 
Chariots of fire and flaming horse : 

Earth trembles ; and her mountains flow 
At His approach, like melting snow. 

But who those frowns of earth can draw, 
That strike heaven, earth, and hell with awe ? 
Red lightning from His eyelids broke, 

His voice was thunder, hail, and smoke. 


He spake ! the cleaving waters fled, 
And stars beheld the ocean’s bed : 
When the great Master strikes his lyre, 
You see the affrighted floods retire. 


In heaps th’ affrighted billows stand, 
Waiting the changes of His hand; 

He leads His Israel through the sea, 

And watery mountains guard their way. 


Turning His hand with sovereign sweep, 
He drowns all Egypt, in the deep ; 

Then guides the tribes, a glorious band, 
Through deserts to the promised land. 


80 


THE HEBREW BARD. 


Here camps, with wide embattled force, 
Here gates and bulwarks stop their course ; 
He storms the mounds, the bulwark falls : 
The harp lies strewed with ruined w^alls. 


See his broad sword flies o’er the strings, 
And mows down nations with their kings : 
From every chord His bolts are hurled, 
And vengeance smites the rebel world. 


ABRAHAM’S FAITH. 


LYRA APOSTOLICA. 


And he believed in the Lord ; and he counted it to him for righteousness. 


The better portion didst thou choose, great heart, 

Thy God’s first choice, and pledge of Gentile grace 
Faith’s truest type, he with unruffled face 
Bore the world’s smile, and bade her slaves depart ; 
Whether a trader, with no trader’s art, 

He buys in Canaan his first resting-place, — 

Or freely yields rich Siddim’s ample space, — 

Or braves the rescue and the battle’s smart, 

Yet scorns the heathen gifts of those he saved. 

Oh, happy in their soul’s high solitude, 

Who commune thus with God, and not with earth ! 
Amid the scoffings of the world enslaved, 

A ready prey, as though in absent mood 

They calmly move, nor hear the unmannered mirth. 


EVENTIDE. 

ANONYMOUS. 


And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at eventide. — Genesis xxiv. 63. 


Sweet evening hour ! Sweet evening hour ! 
That calms the air and shuts the flower, 

That brings the wild bee to its nest, 

The infant to its mother’s breast. 

Sweet hour ! that bids the labourer cease, 

That gives the weary beast release, 

And sends them home, and crowns them there 
With rest and shelter, food and care. 

Oh season of soft sounds and hues, 

Of twilight walks among the dews, 

Of feelings calm and converse sweet, 

And thoughts too shadowy to repeat ! 

Yes, lovely hour ! thou art the time 
When feelings flow and wishes climb ; 

When timid souls begin to dare, 

And God receives and answers prayer. 


EVENTIDE. 


83 


Then, trembling through the dewy skies, 
Look out the stars, like thoughtful eyes 
Of angels, calm, reclining there, 

And gazing on the world of care. 

Sweet hour ! for heavenly musing made, 
When Isaac walked, and Daniel prayed ; 
When Abram’s offering God did own, 
And Jesus loved to be alone. 


THE GOINGS FORTH OF GOD. 


OTWAY CURRY. 


For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being un- 
derstood by the things that are made.— Romans i. 20. 


God walketh on the earth. The purling rills 
And mightier streams before Him glance away, 
Rejoicing in His presence. On the plains 
And spangled fields, and in the mazy vales, 

The living throngs of earth before Him fall 
With thankful hymns, receiving from His hand 
Immortal life and gladness. Clothed upon 
With burning crowns, the mountain heralds stand. 
Proclaiming to the blossoming wilderness 
The brightness of His coming, and the power 
Of Him who ever liveth, All in All ! 

God walketh on the ocean. Brilliantly 
The glassy waters mirror back His smiles ; 

The surging billows and the gambolling storms 
Come crouching to His feet. The hoary deep, 


THE GOINGS FORTH OF GOD. 


85 


And the green, gorgeous islands offer up 
The tribute of their treasures — pearls and shells, 
And the crown-like drapery of the flashing foam. 
And solemnly the tessellated halls, 

And coral domes of mansions in the depths, 

And gardens of the golden-sanded seas, 

Blend, with the anthems of the chiming waves, 
Their Alleluias unto Him who rules 
The invisible armies of eternity. 

God journeyeth in the sky. From sun to sun, 
From star to star the living lightnings flash; 

And pealing thunders through all space proclaim 
The goings forth of Him whose potent arm 
Perpetuates existence, or destroys. 

From depths unknown, unsearchable, profound, 
Forth rush the wandering comets; girt with flames, 
They blend, in order true, with marshalling hosts 
Of starry worshippers. The unhallowed orbs 
Of earth-born fire, that cleave the hazy air, 
Blanched by the flood of uncreated light, 

Fly, with the fleeting winds and misty clouds, 

Back to their homes, and deep in darkness lie. 

God journeyeth in the heavens. Refulgent stars, 
And glittering crowns of prostrate seraphim, 
Emboss His burning path. Around Him fall 
Dread powers, dominions, hosts, and kingly thrones. 
Angels of God — adoring millions— join, 

With spirits pure, redeemed from distant worlds, 


8 


THE GOINGS FORTH OF GOD. 


St> 


In choral songs of praise. — “ Thee we adore, 
For Thou art mighty. Everlasting spheres 
Of light and glory in thy presence wait. 

Time, space, life, light, dominion, majesty, 
Truth, wisdom, — all are thine, Jehovah ! Thou, 
First, last, supreme, eternal Potentate !” 


EDWARD YOUNG-. 


Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said : 

“ Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge Job xxxviii. 1, 2. 


Thrice happy, Job long lived in regal state, 

Nor saw the sumptuous East a prince so great ; 
Whose worldly stores in such abundance flow’d, 
Whose heart with such exalted virtue glow’d. 

At length misfortunes take their turn to reign, 

And ills on ills succeed, a fearful train ! 

What now but deaths, and poverty, and wrong, 
The sword wide-wasting, the reproachful tongue, 
And spotted plagues that marked his limbs all o’er 
So thick with pains, they wanted room for more ! 
A change so sad what mortal here could bear ? 
Exhausted wo had left him nought to fear, 

But gave him all to grief. Low, earth he press’d, 
Wept in the dust, and sorely smote his breast. 

His friends around the deep affliction mourned, 
Felt all his pangs, and groan for groan returned ; 


88 


JOB. 


In anguish of their hearts their mantles rent, 

And seven long days in solemn silence spent ! 

A debt of reverence to distress so great ! 

Then Job contain’d no more, but cursed his fate, 

His day of birth, its inauspicious light, 

His wishes sunk in shades of endless night, 

And blotted from the year ; nor fears to crave 
Death, instant death ; impatient for the grave, 

That seat of peace, that mansion of repose, 

Where rest and mortals are no longer foes ; 

Where counsellors are hushed, and mighty kings 
(Oh happy turn) no more are wretched things. 

His words were daring, and displeased his friends ; 
His conduct they reprove, and he defends; 

And now they kindled into warm debate, 

And sentiments opposed with equal heat ; 

Fix’d in opinion, both refuse to yield, 

And summon all their reason to the field : 

So high at length their arguments were wrought, 
They reached the last extent of human thought : 

A pause ensued — when, lo ! Heaven interposed, 

And awfully the long contention closed. 

Full o’er their heads, with terrible surprise, 

A sudden whirlwind blackened all the skies : 

(They saw and trembled !) from the darkness broke 
A dreadful voice, and thus th’ Almighty spoke : 

“ Who gives his tongue a loose so bold and vain, 
Compares my conduct, and reproves my reign, 


JOB. 


89 


Lifts up his thoughts against me from the dust, 

And tells the World’s Creator what is just? 

Of late so brave, now lift a dauntless eye, 

Face my demand, and give it a reply : — 

Where didst thou dwell at Nature’s early birth ? 

Who laid foundations for the spacious earth ? 

Who on its surface did extend the line, 

Its form determine and its bulk confine ? 

Who fixed the corner-stone? What hand declare, 

Hung it on naught, and fastened it on air ; 

When the bright morning stars in concert sang, 

When heaven’s high arch with loud hosannas rang, 
When shouting sons of God the triumph crown’d, 

And the wide concave thunder’d with the sound ? 
Earth’s numerous kingdoms, hast thou viewed them all ? 
And can thy span of knowledge grasp the ball ? 

Who heaved the mountain which sublimely stands, 

And casts its shadow into distant lands ? 

“ Who, stretching forth His sceptre o’er the deep, 
Can that wide world in due subjection keep ? 

I broke the globe, I scooped its hollow side, 

And did a basin for the floods provide ; 

I chained them with my word ; the boiling sea, 

Worked up in tempests, hears my great decree — 

4 Thus far thy floating tide shall be convey’d ; 

And here, oh main, be thy proud billows stay’d !’ 

“ Hast thou explored the secrets of the deep, 

Where, shut from use, unnumbered treasures sleep ? 


8 * 


90 


JOB. 


Where, down a thousand fathoms from the day, 

Springs the great fountain, mother of the sea ? 

Those gloomy paths did thy bold foot e’er tread, 

Whole worlds of waters rolling o’er thy head ? 

" Hath the cleft centre open’d wide to thee ? 

Death’s inmost, chambers didst thou ever see ? 

E’er knock at his tremendous gate, and wade 
To the black portal through th’ incumbent shade? 

Deep are those shades ; but shades still deeper hide 
My counsels from the ken of human pride. 

“ Where dwells the light ? in what refulgent dome ? 
And where has darkness made her dismal home ? 

Thou know’st, no doubt, since thy large heart is fraught 
With ripened wisdom, through long ages brought ; 

Since Nature was called forth when thou wast by, 

And into being rose beneath thine eye ! 

“ Are mists begotten ? Who their father knew ? 

From whom descend the pearly drops of dew ? 

To bind the stream by night what hand can boast, 

Or whiten morning with the hoary frost ? 

Whose powerful breath, from northern regions blown, 
Touches the sea, and turns it into stone : 

A sudden desert spreads o’er realms defaced, 

And lays one-half of the creation waste ? 

“ Thou know’st me not ; thy blindness cannot see 
How vast a distance parts thy God from thee. 


JOB. 


91 


Canst thou in whirlwinds mount aloft ? Canst thou 
In clouds and darkness wrap thy awful brow ? 

And, when day triumphs in meridian light, 

Put forth thy hand and shade the world with night ? 

“ Who launched the clouds in air, and bid them roll, 
Suspended seas aloft, from pole to pole ? 

Who can refresh the burning sandy plain, 

And quench the summer with a waste of rain ? 

Who, in rough deserts, far from human toil, 

Made rocks bring forth, and desolation smile ? 

There blooms the rose, where human face ne’er shone, 
And spreads its beauties to the Sun alone. 

“ To check the shower, who lifts his hand on high, 
And shuts the sluices of th’ exhausted sky, 

When earth no longer mourns her gaping veins, 

Her naked mountains and her russet plains; 

But, new in life, a cheerful prospect yields, 

Of shining rivers, and of verdant fields ; 

When groves and forests lavish all their bloom, 

And earth and heaven are filled with rich perfume ? 

“ Hast thou e’er scaled my wintry skies, and seen 
Of hail and snows my northern magazine ? 

These the dread treasures of mine anger are, 

My funds of vengeance for the day of war, 

When clouds rain death, and storms, at my command, 
Rage through the world, and waste a guilty land. 

“ Who taught the rapid winds to fly so fast, 

Or shakes the centre with his eastern blast ? 


92 


JOB. 


Who from the skies can a whole deluge pour ? 

Who strikes through Nature with the solemn roar 
Of dreadful thunder, points it where to fall, 

And in fierce lightning wraps the flying ball ? 

Not he who trembles at the darted fires, 

Falls at the sound, and in the flash expires. 

“ Who drew the comet out to such a size, 

And poured his flaming train o’er half the skies ? 

Did thy resentment hang him out ? Does he 
Glare on the nations, and denounce from thee ? 

“ Who on low earth can moderate the rein 
That guides the stars along th’ ethereal plain ? 

Appoint their seasons, and direct their course, 

Their lustre brighten, and apply their force ? 

Canst thou the skies’ benevolence restrain, 

And cause the Pleiades to shine in vain ? 

Or when Orion sparkles from his sphere, 

Thaw the cold season, and unbind the year ? 

Bid Mazzaroth his destined station know, 

And teach the bright Arcturus where to glow ? 

Mine is the night with all her stars ; I pour 
Myriads, and myriads I reserve in store. 

“ Dost thou pronounce where daylight shall be born, 
And draw the purple curtains of the morn ; 

Awake the sun, and bid him come away, 

And glad thy world with his obsequious ray ? 

Hast thou, enthroned in flaming glory, driven 
Triumphant round the spacious ring of heaven? 


JOB. 


03 


That pomp of light what hand so far displays, 

That distant earth lies basking in the blaze ? 

“ Who did the soul with her rich powers invest, 

And light up reason in the human breast, 

To shine, with fresh increase of lustre bright, 

When stars and sun are set in endless night ? 

To these my various questions, make reply.” 

— Th’ Almighty spake, and speaking, shook the sky. 

What, then, Chaldean sire, was thy surprise ! 

Thus thou, with trembling heart and downcast eyes : — 
“ Once and again, which I in groans deplore, 

My tongue has erred, but shall presume no more. 

My voice is in eternal silence bound, 

And all my soul falls prostrate to the ground.” 

He ceased: when lo ! again the Almighty spoke ; 
The same dread voice from the black whirlwind broke. 

“ Can that arm measure with an arm divine ? 

And canst thou thunder with a voice like mine ? 

Or in the hollow of thy hand contain 
The bulk of waters, the wide-spreading main, 

When, mad with tempests, all the billows rise 
In all their rage, and dash the distant skies ? 

“ Come forth, in beauty’s excellence array’d, 

And be the grandeur of thy power display’d ; 

Put on omnipotence, and, frowning, make 
The spacious round of the creation shake ; 


94 


JOB. 


Despatch thy vengeance ; bid it overthrow 
Triumphant vice, lay lofty tyrants low, 

And crumble them to dust. When this is done, 

I grant thy safety lodged in thee alone ; 

Of thee thou art, and may’st undaunted stand 
Behind the buckler of thine own right hand. 

“ Fond man, the vision of a moment made ! 

Dream of a dream ! and shadow of a shade ! 

What worlds hast thou produced, what creatures framed ; 
What insects cherished, that thy God is blamed ? 

When, pained with hunger, the wild raven’s brood 
Loud calls on God, importunate for food, 

Who hears their cry ? Who grants their hoarse request. 
And stills the clamour of the craving nest ? 

****** 

“ Go to the Nile, and, from its fruitful side, 

Cast forth thy line into the swelling tide : 

With slender hair leviathan command, 

And stretch his vastness on the loaded strand. 

Will he become thy servant? Will he own 
Thy lordly nod, and tremble at thy frown ? 

Or with his sport amuse thy leisure day, 

And bound in silk, with thy soft maidens play ? 

“ Shall pompous banquets swell with such a prize, 

And the bowl journey round his ample size ? 

Or the debating merchants share the prey, 

And various limbs to various marts convey ? 


\ 


JOB. 


95 


Through his firm skull what steel his way can win ? 
What forceful engine can subdue his skin ? 

Fly far and live ; tempt not his matchless might : 

The bravest shrink to cowards in his sight : 

The rashest dare not rouse him up. Who then 
Shall turn on me, among the sons of men ? 

“ Am I a debtor ? Hast thou ever heard 
Whence come the gifts that are on me conferr’d ? 

My lavish fruit a thousand valleys fills, 

Mine are the cattle on a thousand hills : 

Earth, sea, and air, all Nature is my own ; 

And stars and sun are dust beneath my throne. 

And dar’st thou with the world’s great Father vie ? 
Thou, who dost tremble at my creature’s eye ? 

“ At full my large leviathan shall rise, 

Boast all his strength, and spread his wondrous size. 
Who, great in arms, e’er stripp’d his shining mail, 

Or crown’d his triumph with a single scale ? 

Whose heart sustains him to draw near ? Behold 
Destruction yawns, his spacious jaws unfold, 

And, marshall’d round the wide expanse, disclose 
Teeth edged with death, and crowding rows on rows : 
What hideous fangs on either side arise ! 

And what a deep abyss between them lies ! 

Mete with thy lance, and with thy plummet sound, 
The one how long, the other how profound. 

His bulk is charged with such a furious soul, 

That clouds of smoke from his spread nostrils roll, 


96 


JOB. 


As from a furnace ; and, when roused his ire, 

Fate issues from his jaws in streams of fire. 

The rage of tempests, and the roar of seas, 

Thy terror, this thy great superior please ; 

Strength on his ample shoulder sits in state ; 

His well-joined limbs are dreadfully complete ; 

His flakes of solid flesh are slow to part ; 

As steel his nerves, as adamant his heart. 

“ When, late awaked, he rears him from the floods, 
And stretching forth his nature to the clouds, 

Writhes in the sun aloft his scaly height. 

And strikes the distant hills with transient light, 

Far round are fatal damps of terror spread, 

The mighty fear, nor blush to own their dread. 

“ Large is his front ; and when his burnished eyes 
Lift their broad lids, the morning seems to rise. 

In vain may death in various shapes invade, 

The swift-winged arrow, the descending blade ; 

His naked breast their impotence defies, 

The dart rebounds, the brittle falchion flies. 

Shut in himself, the war without he hears. 

Safe in the tempest of their rattling spears ; 

The cumber’d strand their wasted volleys strow ; 

His sport, the rage and labour of the foe. 

“ His pastimes like a cauldron boil the flood, 

And blacken ocean with the rising mud; 

The billows feel him as he works his way ; 

His hoary footsteps shine along the sea ; 


JOB. 


97 


The foam high- wrought with white divides the green, 
And distant sailors point where death has been. 

“ His like Earth bears not on his spacious face ; 
Alone in Nature stands his dauntless race, 

For utter ignorance of fear renown’d; 

In wrath he rolls his baleful eye around, 

Makes every swoll’n, disdainful heart subside, 

And holds dominion o’er the sons of pride.” 

Then the Chaldean eased his labouring breast, 

With full conviction of his crime opprest. 

“ Thou can’st accomplish all things, Lord of might ! 
And every thought is naked to thy sight. 

But oh ! Thy ways are wonderful, and lie 
Beyond the deepest reach of mortal eye. 

Oft have I heard of thine almighty power, 

But never saw r thee till this dreadful hour. 

O’erwhelm’d with shame, the Lord of life I see, 

Abhor myself, and give my soul to thee. 

Nor shall my weakness tempt thine anger more : 

Man is not made to question , but adore.” 


9 


THE VISION OF ELIPHAZ. 


LORD BYRON. 


In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men. 

Fear came upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. 

Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up — Job iv. 13, 14, 15. 


A spirit passed before me : I beheld 
The face of Immortality unveiled — 

Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine — 
And there it stood — all formless — but divine : 
Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake, 

And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake : 

“ Is man more just than God ? Is man more pure 
Than He who deems e’en seraphs insecure ? 
Creatures of clay ! Vain dwellers in the dust ! 
The moth survives you, and are ye more just ? 
Things of a day ! you wither ere the night, 
Heedless and blind to Wisdom’s wasted light !” 


COMPLAINT AND CONSOLATION. 


THOMAS DALE. 

For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the 
earth: 

And though after my skin, worms destroy the body, yet in my flesh shall I see God. 

Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.— Job xix. 25-27. 


Of all my race there breathes not one 
To comfort or deplore me ; 

Pain wakes a pulse in every bone, 
And death is closing o’er me. 

Still doth his lifted stroke delay, 
Protracted tortures dooming, 

I feel, ere life has passed away, 

His very worm consuming. 

Night spreads her mantle o’er the sky, 
And all around are sleeping, 

While I, in tears of agony, 

My restless couch am steeping. 

I sigh for morn — the rising day 
Awakes the earth to gladness ; 

I turn, with sickening soul, away — 

It smiles upon my sadness. 


100 


COMPLAINT AND CONSOLATION. 


Cursed be that day in tempest wild — 
When first with looks delighted, 

My mother smiled upon her child, 

And felt her pangs requited ! 

Oh ! that by human eye unseen, 

I might have fled from sorrow ; 

And been as though I had not been, 

As I would be to-morrow ! 

The light wave, sparkling in the beam 
That trembles o’er the river, 

A moment sheds its quivering gleam, 
Then shuns the light, for ever : 

So soft a ray can pleasure shed. 

While secret snares surround it ; 

So swift the faithless hope is fled, 
Which wins the heart to wound it ! 

A crown of glory graced my brow ; 
Whole nations bent before me ; 

Princes and hoary sires would bow, 

To flatter and adore me. 

To me the widow turned for aid, 

And ne’er in vain addressed me ; 

For me the grateful orphan pray’d, 

The soul of mis’ry blessed me. 

I raised the drooping wretch that pined, 
In lonely anguish lying ; 

Was balm unto the wounded mind, 

And solace to the dying ; 


COMPLAINT AND CONSOLATION. 


101 


Till one stern stroke, of all my state, 

Of all my bliss bereft me ; 

And I was worse than desolate. 

For God himself had left me. 

Ye, too, as life itself beloved, 

When all conspired to bless me, 

I deemed ye friends, but ye have proved 
The foes who most oppress me. 

I could have borne the rude slave’s scorn, 
The wreck of all I cherished, 

Had one — but one — remained to mourn 
O’er me, when I too perished. 

My children sleep in death’s cold shade, 
And nought can now divide them ; 

Oh ! would the same wild storm had laid 
Their wretched sire beside them ; 

I had not then been doom’d to see 
The loss of all who love me ; 

Unbroken would my slumbers be, 

Though none had wept above me. 

All hope on earth for ever fled, 

A higher hope remaineth ; 

For while His wrath is o’er me shed, 

I know my Saviour reigneth. 

The worm may waste this withering clay, 
When flesh and spirit sever ; 

My soul shall see eternal day, 

And dwell with God for ever ! 

r 


WILLIAM KNOX. 


I would not live alway.— J ob vii. 16 . 


Oh, Youth is like the springtide morn, 
When roses bloom on Jordan’s strand, 
And far the turtle’s voice is borne 
Through all Judea’s echoing land ! 

When the delighted wanderer roves 
Through cedar woods, and olive groves, 
That spread their blossoms to the day ; 
And climbs the hill, and fords the stream, 
And basks him in the noontide beam, 

Oh ! “ I would not live alway.” 

But Age is like the winter’s night, 

When Hermon wears his mantle cloud, 
When moon and stars withdraw their light, 
And Hinnom’s blast is long and loud ; 
When the dejected pilgrim strays 
Along the desert’s trackless maze, 


YOUTH AND AGE. 


103 


Forsaken by each friendly ray; 

And feels no vigour in his limb, 

And finds no home on earth for him, 

And cries amid the shadows dim, 

“ I would not live alway.” 

Oh ! Youth is firmly bound to earth, 

When hope beams in each comrade’s glance ; 
His bosom chords are tuned to mirth, 

Like harp-strings in the cheerful dance ; 

But Age has felt those ties unbound 
Which fixed him to that spot of ground 
Where all his household comforts lay ; 

He feels his freezing heart grow cold, 

He thinks of kindred in the mould, 

And cries amid his grief untold, 

“ I would not live alway.” 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEYEH. 


CHARLES JENNER. 

Now the word of the Lord came unto Jonah, the son of Amittai, saying, 

“ Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it ; for their wickedness i3 come up 
before me.”— Jonah i. 1, 2. 

Now had th’ Almighty Judge of heav’n and earth, 

Within whose hand the proud Assyria serv’d 
But as a scourge to punish Israel’s sin, 

With indignation view’d the victor’s pride, 

Who, flush’d with conquest and debauch’d by wealth, 
Spurned at high heav’n, and ’midst their gorgeous feasts 
Gave honour to themselves, nor thought on God, 

Save to blaspheme His name ; who impious trod 
Beneath irrev’rent feet His high behests. 

Indulging ev’ry sense ; th’ impetuous youth 
Following with eager steps and dauntless front 
Wherever passion or lewd rapine call’d, 

Whilst aged sires, on tott’ring crutches propp’d, 

Look’d smiling on, and with a guilty sigh 
Envied their sons the joys they could not share. 

He saw, and turn’d Him loth to His revenge ; 

Nor struck at once, but with a parent’s care, 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


105 


Whose arms are ever open to receive 
The humbled prodigal who turns, though late, 

To seek his face, sent forth His holy word 
Of His most just though most severe intent 
Warning to give. The word to Jonah came, 

Who all unus’d to bear such high commands 
Save to God’s own elect, with doubtful mind 
Paus’d wondering. Ill, full ill such pause became 
Him who ere then had heard that mighty voice, 
Who knew that sound to those who disobey 
Terrific as the thunder’s crash, but mild 
As the soft wind which fann’d Eve’s roseate bow’r, 
’Ere Sin had footing there, to those who hear 
And fly with duteous heart to execute. 

Why did he pause ? Ah why ! unless to show 
To after times that he whose falt’ring mind 
But one short moment wavers in suspense 
When duty calls, gives the arch-tempter time 
To gain firm footing in his soul, and urge 
Some well-devised plea to stop his course. 

Why did he hesitate, why inly show 
Reluctance against God, or by a thought 
Distrust His firmness, or suspect His truth? 

Swift to betray and ever on the watch, 

The subtle tempter that short moment seiz’d 
To raise a mist before the prophet’s sight, 

Which show’d it possible to flee from God. 

O where was that all-sacred spirit flown 
Which erst had glow’d within his fervent breast, 


106 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


That fire prophetic, fitted and imped’d 
To noblest purposes by God’s own hand, 

Which unappall’d by guilt, uncheck’d by fear, 
Should scatter terror through an impious world, 
And tell the dreadful tale of wrath to come ! 
’Twas gone, and in its place wild frantic fear 
And base distrust and impious doubt sprang up, 
Sinking the prophet in the man. He flies, 

O miserable change ! the victim now, 

No longer the dread harbinger alone 
Of heav’nly wrath : he flies nor turns to think, 
’Till scenes of horror strike his conscious heart, 
And quick destruction thunders to his soul. 

Wide o’er the raging billows of the deep 
Wild horror stalks with aspect terrible, 

Whilst plunging deep full many a fathom down, 
He learns by sad experience to declare 
How heavy ’tis to feel the wrath of Heav’n, 

And bear the vengeance of an angry God. 

Nor yet untried he tells the happier tale 
Of mercy, when with pitying hand outstretch’d 
To rescue from the very grasp of death, 

That Pow’r supreme by whom the storm is rais’d, 
Provides unhop’d-for safety in the deep. 

In vain the lightnings shoot their ghastly gleam, 
Wild thunders roar, and ocean groaning deep 
Lifts its o’erwhelming billows to the sky, 

Unhurt he issues from his living tomb, 

His glad eye op’ning on the light of heav’n, 

And wrapt in wonder, joy and gratitude, 

With eager step pursues his destin’d way, 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


107 


Type of that plan supreme not yet fulfill’d,* 

Which reconcil’d the vengeance due to guilt 

With “ that dear might” which loos’d the bands of death. 

’Twas morn, and o’er the glitt’ring tow’rs the sun 
Shed wide his kindling beams ; illum’d with gold 
Aloft the spiry turrets shone, and wav’d 
Their silken banners streaming in the wind 
With gay display ; bedeck’d with martial spoils, 

From hapless Israel won, rich trophies rose, 

And frequent grac’d the w T alls. With conscious pride 
His wide domain the victor monarch view’d, 

Whilst, sitting high amid a gaudy herd 
Of sycophants, he gave a loose to joy, 

Rais’d a whole nation’s voice in festive songs, 

And taught his ready slaves, too prone to learn, 

That luxury alone is happiness. 

Slow and unnotic’d through the spacious streets 
The holy prophet walk’d and mark’d their pride, 

He mark’d their pow’r, he mark’d their wealth, and now 
A heaving sigh he stole, whilst all around 
The growing multitudes he view’d, who throng’d 
Thick as the insect race which quiv’ring float 
With hum incessant on the evening breeze. 

Sorrowing he mark’d the jocund air which shone 
In every face and brighten’d ev’ry eye, 

Whilst all was joy and mirth and careless ease ; 

Sad contrast to the prospect in his soul ! 


* There shall no sign be given it but the sign of the prophet Jonas— St. Matthew xvi. 4. 


108 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


He sigh’d, and one mild look of pity cast, 

“ Just Heav’n — but forty days ! — thy will be done !” 
Then op’ning slow the book of Fate, he turn’d 
And “ Oh,” he cried, “ Vain, heedless race, attend, 

Ye who with giant pride a course full long 
Of old, unfeeling vice have run, and ye 
Whom Luxury with soft seducing smile 
Allures, and binds in silken chains, attend ; 

Leave, leave, for ever leave your gay delights, 

Your wonted triumphs and your ceaseless mirth, 

For, Oh sad change! a long, long train of woes, 

Like a swart storm which gathers in the wind. 

Hangs hov’ring o’er your destin’d heads, and waits 
But the scant hour appointed ere it bursts 
And crumbles you to dust. Unhappy state ! 

Quick, quick the moment comes when all thy strength, 
Which triumph’d far and wide with greedy pow’r, 
Shall sink to less than woman’s weakness, fall’n 
Beneath the hopeless abject state of those 
Who felt the keen edge of thy tyranny. 

I see thy strong tow’rs nod, thy bulwarks rock, 

Thy stately fabrics from their centre heave, 

Whilst desolation like a whirlwind flies 
In one sad ruin overwhelming all. 

Go seek your King amidst his pageant state, 

Nor tremble at his look, but bid him fear ; 

And boldly tell him one unwelcome truth, 

That now, ev’n now the hand of Heav’n is rear’d, 

Or ere the fortieth sun shall rise and set, 

To blast the blooming laurels on his brow, 

And hurl him from his car of triumph down, 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


109 


No more to rise, but with his meanest slaves 
To lie confounded in one gen’ral doom.” 

All pow’rful is the voice of truth. Aghast 
The trembling people stand, nor doubt his words, 

Whilst coward conscience whispers to their soul 
How less than nothing is the aid which wealth 
Or pow’r can lend against the wrath of Heav’n. 

By sense of danger rous’d, they bow the knee 
And prostrate turn to God, remember’d scarce 
Nor ever sought in moments happier deem’d : 

Themselves sufficient to themselves, they scorn’d 
To court His smile, but dar’d not brave His frown, 

Fear taught them first to kneel and first to pray, 

Whilst memory officious to their view 
Held the black register of their misdeeds. 

Despair first taught their harden’d hearts to melt, 

And turn’d the flint-stone to a springing well, 

Whence flow’d in copious streams those contrite tears 
Which fail not in the eye of Heav’n to purge 
The soul from guilt, and wash out ev’ry stain. 

Nor vain their pray’rs, their tears; for Heav’n who form’d 
Knows well the frailty of the sons of earth, 

Nor seeks perfection there, but kindly deigns 
To raise the humble sinner from the dust, 

And give to penitence the promis’d meed 

Of virtue undefil’d. A nation’s tears * 

Absolv’d a nation’s guilt ; and gracious Heav’n 

With mild relenting eye and arm restrain’d 

Receiv’d their proffer’d vows. — But ah ! how vain, 

10 


110 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH 


How weak is man ! how frail his best resolves ! 

But frailest those which owe their hasty birth 
To fear ; how short, how transient is their life. 

Hardly obtain’d, they shine but like the sparks 
Struck from the flint, which scarce outlive the blow. 
Ev’n thus, or ere the fortieth sun had set, 

The dreaded sentence seem’d an idle dream, 

And the full tide of sin, awhile restrain’d, 

Rush’d madly forward with redoubled force, 
Precluding ev’ry hope of future grace. 

That Heav’n should find it easier to forgive 
Than wayward man alas to be forgiv’n ! 

But Oh unhappy state ! Oh desperate race ! 

A sterner prophet, Israel’s Comforter, 

Hath dipp’d his pen in blood to write thy doom. 

Too deep the reeking sword shall strike, too near 
To trifle with its edge ; again ’tis drawn, 

And never, never shall be sheath’d, ’till wide 
It spreads destruction o’er thy plains, nor leaves 
A hand to bury or an eye to weep. 

Hark where the conqu’ring Mede with furious voice 
Calls loud for help. Stern Babylon replies ; 

Together roll their rattling chariots on, 

Their blended armies gather as they run, 

And brandishing their eager falchions high, 

Impetuous rush like lions on their prey. 

They come, they come, lo where thy weak hosts fly, 
Nor fly in safety; see they sink, they fall, 

Fall like ripe fruit, or yellow autumn leaves, 

And strew the victor’s path. Lost in amaze 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


Ill 


Thy hardy vet’rans stand to see such feats 
As turn their bloodiest wars to childish frays ; 

And ever and anon with anguish pierc’d, 

“ Stand, stand,” they faintly cry, but none regards ; 
“ Turn, dastard slaves,” but no one will look back. 
Frantic with fear they lose the pow’r to raise 
One warding shield to break the victor’s stroke : 

Th’ ensanguin’d field alone with carnage strew’d 
Awhile impedes their eager way. But now, 
Through scenes of horror bursting, at thy walls 
A thousand banners wave, and purple spears 
Unnumber’d press ; vainly thy ports are barr’d, 

Thy strong tow’rs mann’d with many a hardy chief, 
Vain thy strong holds, vain all thy ancient might. 
For lo the rapid flood impetuous swells, 

And Desolation, borne upon its waves 
In dreadful pomp, invades thy tott’ring wall, 

And rides in horrid triumph through the breach. 
Remembrance now calls forth the flatt’ring tale 
Prophetic, which thy sage forefathers told, 

Your wise men sighing shake their hoary heads, 
Foreboding now th’ unlook’d for time is come 
When the proud stream shall lift her rebel waves 
Against those sacred walls, which grace her shore. 

And now thy bulwarks nod, they bow, they fall, 
Low, low on earth thy prostrate glory lies. 

Now rooted from their base, the sculptur’d dome, 
The stately column, and the storied arch, 

In awful ruin lie ; whilst ruthless war, 

The keen scythe snatching from the hand of Time, 


112 


DESTRUCTION OF NINEVEH. 


With speedier rage to deal destruction round. 

Levels the work of ages at a blow ; 

Nor one proud track of ancient glory leaves. 

Save what the rolls of mem’ry may supply 
Uncertain, or the eye inquisitive 
Trace from the mould’ring heaps of scatter’d pride. 
As through thy grass-grown streets with fearful tread 
The trav’ler strays, casting a wary look. 

Lest basking in the sculptur’d cornice lurk 
The slimy adder or the mottled snake. 

And starting hears the horrid nightbird’s scream 

From off the gilded chapiter resound 

With lonely echo through the moss-grown walls. 

Thus blasted in its very noon of pride 
F alls the weak state whose tott’ring base is laid 
Unstable in the sand of human pow’r. 

And mark her fall, ye gen’rous band, who claim 
The honour’d name of patriot, mark it well, 

And let it grave this lesson on your heart : 

“ They raise a nation’s strength alone, who raise 
A nation’s virtue think how weak, how vain 
Proves every state which boasts not her support ; 
Like the mysterious gourd, beneath whose shade 
The prophet sat, it blossoms for a day ; 

But deep within its canker’d root conceal’d 
The worm of sin with ever-rankling tooth 
Preys on its vital part : unmark’d, unseen 
The inbred venom works, till drooping fast, 

Its blushing honours sinking to the dust, 

It fades forgot, nor leaves to after times 
The precious odour of a good report. 


ABRAHAM AT MACHPELAH. 


LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY. 


Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Machpelah.— Genesis xxiii. 19. 


Deep wrapt in shades, 
Olive and terebinth, its vaulted door 
Fleck’d with the untrained vine and matted grass, 
Behold Machpelah’s cave. 

Hark ! hear we not 

A voice of weeping? Lo yon aged man 
Bendeth beside his dead. Wave after wave 
Of memory rises, till his lonely heart 
Sees all its treasures floating in the flood 
Like rotten weeds. 

The earliest dawn of love 
Is present with him, and a form of grace, 

Whose beauty held him ever in its thrall : 

And then the morn of marriage, gorgeous robes, 
And dulcet music, and the rites that bless 
The Eastern bride. Full many a glowing scene, 
Made happy by her tenderness, returns 


10* 


114 


ABRAHAM AT MACHPELAH. 


To mock his solitude, as the sharp lance 
Severs the quiv’ring nerve. His quiet home 
Gleams through the oaks of Mamre. There he sat, 
Rendering due rites of hospitality 
To guests who bore the folded wing of Heaven 
Beneath their vestments. And her smile was there 
Among the angels. 

When her clustering curls 

Wore Time’s chill hoar-frost, with what glad surprise, 
What holy triumph of exulting faith, 

He saw fresh blooming in her withered arms 
A fair young babe, the heir of all his wealth. 

For ever blending with that speechless joy 
Which thrilled his soul, when first a father’s name 
Fell on his ear, is that pale, placid brow 
O’er which he weeps. 

Yet had he seen it wear 

Another semblance, tinged with hues of thought, 
Perchance unlovely, in that trial hour 
When to sad Hagar’s mute, reproachful eye 
He answer’d naught, but on her shoulder laid 
The water-bottle and the loaf, and sent 
Her and her son, unfriended wanderers, forth 
Into the wilderness. 

Say, who can mourn 
Over the smitten idol, by long years 
Cemented with his being, yet perceive 
No dark remembrance that he fain would blot, 
Troubling the tear ? If there were no kind deed 
Omitted, no sweet healing word of love 
Expected, yet unspoken ; no light tone, 


ABRAHAM AT MACHPELAH. 


115 


That struck discordant on the shivering nerve, 

For which the weeper fain would rend the tomb 
To cry, “ Forgive !” Oh let him kneel and praise 
God amid all his grief. 

We may not say 
If aught of penitence was in the pang 
That wrung the labouring breast, while o’er the dust 
Of Sarah, at Machpelah’s waiting tomb, 

The proud and princely Abraham bowed him down, 
A mourning stranger, mid the sons of Heth. 


THE DEPARTING SPIRIT. 


ANONYMOUS. 


Then Abraham gave up the ghost and died.— Genesis xxv. 8. 


A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 

A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snows : 
Long had I watched the glory moving on, 

O’er the still radiance of the lake below : 
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow, 

E’en in its very motion there was rest, 

While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, 
Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. 
Emblem methought of the departed soul, 

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, 
And by the breath of mercy made to roll 
Right onward to the golden gates of heaven : 
Where to the eyes of faith it peaceful lies, 

And tells to man his glorious destinies. 








K !« 


!> F 1 K r® E © 


.0 



* 






R E B E K A H. 

ANONYMOUS. 


And they blessed Rebekah, and said unto her, “Thou art our sister.”— Genesis xxiv. 60. 


Where parents mild dominion wear, 
Where children live in loving awe, 
And all each other’s burdens bear, 

And thus fulfil the heavenly law — 
Our Father from his shining throne 
Bows to approve them as His own. 

For holy are the tender ties 

Which bind a household firm in love, 
The strength of God within them lies, 
They own an influence from above : 
And Heaven smiling deigns to bless 
A sister’s kind and pure caress. 

Should death the blissful scene invade, 
And ravish a beloved one, 

The aged sire, or blooming maid, 

The mother dear, or cherished son : 


118 


R E B E K A H. 


Shall not, though vain be mortal sight, 

The Judge of all the earth do right? 

A household living in God’s fear 
Is, upon earth, the type of Heaven : 

If He from our embraces here 

Takes back the friend that He has given — 
“ Well done,” the summons is; “ thou blest, 
Enter upon thy Saviour’s rest.” 

And though scarce less than death it seem 
When children from their home depart, 

Oh let not the beloved deem 

Heaven for no purpose rends the heart : 
With Laban yield, in meek accord ; 

“ The thing proceedeth from the Lord.” 

Above are partings never known, 

But oh, it is not thus below : 

Rebekah could Heaven’s mandate own, 

And say, submissive, “ I will go !” — 
Losing her kindred’s tender care, 

But blessed in their fervent prayer. 

When Sarah in the dust was laid, 

Still comfort was at Isaac’s side : 

To her new home the Syrian maid 
Was welcomed as the Patriarch’s bride — 
Thus is it ever Heaven’s will 
Woman her mission should fulfil. 


R E B E K A H. 


119 


That heavenly trust, the sacred flame 
Which burns in the paternal home, 
Must be borne forth in Heaven’s name, 
To shine beneath another dome : 
Mother and sire the child must leave, 
And to new loves and duties cleave. 

Mother of Nations ! It wa s thine 

The household prayer to test, indeed — 
The parent of the chosen line, 

Of whom was born the promised Seed, 
The Sent, the Brightest and the Best, 

In whom all lands and tongues are blest. 


EDMUND WALLER. 


All Scripture is given by inspiration of God.— 2 Timothy iii. 16. 


The Grecian Muse has all their gods survived, 
Nor Jove at us, nor Phoebus is arrived ; 

Frail deities, which first the poets made, 

And then invoked to give their fancies aid ! 

Yet if they still divert us with their rage, 

What may be hoped for in a better age, 

When not from Helicon’s imagined spring, 

But Sacred Writ we borrow what we sing? 
This with the fabric of the world begun, 

Elder than light, and shall outlast the sun, 
Before this oracle, like Dagon, all 
The false pretenders, Delphos, Hammon, fall ; 
Long since despised and silent they afford 
Honour and triumph to the Eternal Word. 

As late Philosophy our globe has graced, 

And rolling earth among the planets placed, 

So has this book entitled us to heaven, 

And rules to guide us to that mansion given ; 
Tells the condition how our peace was made, 
And is our pledge for the great Author’s aid. 


THE SCRIPTURES. 


121 


His power in nature’s ample book we find, 

But the less volume doth express his mind. 

This light unknown, bold Epicurus taught 
That his blest gods vouchsafe us not a thought, 
But, unconcerned, let all below them slide. 

As fortune does, or human wisdom guide. 
Religion thus removed, the sacred yoke 
And bond of all society is broke : 

What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, 

Where men regard no god but interest ? 

What endless war would jealous nations bear, 

If none above did witness what they swear ? 

Sad fate of unbelievers, and yet just, 

Among themselves to find so little trust ! 

Were Scripture silent, Nature would proclaim, 
Without a God, our falsehood and our shame. 
To know our thoughts, the object of his eyes, 

Is the first step towards being good or wise ; 

For though with judgment we on things reflect, 
Our will determines, not our intellect : 

Slaves to their passion, reason men employ 
Only to compass what they would enjoy ; 

His fear to guard us from ourselves we need, 
And Sacred Writ our reason doth exceed ; 

For though heaven shows the glory of the Lord, 
Yet something shines more glorious in his word; 
His mercy this (which all his works excels,) 

His tender kindness and compassion tells : 

While we, informed by that celestial Book, 

Into the councils of our Maker look. 


11 


THE BETTER LAND. 

FELICIA HEMANS. 


But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.— Hebrews xi. 16. 


I hear thee speak of the better land, 

Thou call’st its children a happy band ; 

Mother ! Oh where is that radiant shore, — 

Shall we not seek it and weep no more ? 

Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 

And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs ? 
“ Not there, not there, my child.” 

Is it where the feathery palm trees rise. 

And the date grows ripe under sunny skies, 

Or midst the green islands of glittering seas, 

Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 

And strange bright birds, on their starry wings, 
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? 

“ Not there, not there, my child.” 


THE BETTER LAND. 


123 


Is it far away, in some region old, 

Where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold — 
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 

And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 

And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand — 
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? 

“ Not there, not there, my child. 

“ Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ! 

Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy, 

Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, 

Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 

Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, 

For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, 

It is there, it is there, my child !” 


THE PROPHET’S DREAM. 

JOHN B. DILLON. 


The land shall be utterly emptied and utterly spoiled.— Isaiah xxiv. 3. 


Where fell the palm-trees , clustering shade, 

The aged and weary prophet lay, 

And o’er his fevered temples played 
The freshness of the primal day. 

He slept — and on his spirit fell 
A vision of the flight of time — 

He saw upon the future dwell, 

A dark’ning cloud of sin and crime. 

Gone were the spirits that lingered near 
The world in its early bloom, 

And Hope’s pure light, that was wont to cheer, 
Grew dim in the gathering gloom ; 

And Love from Earth was hurl’d — 

And a mandate came, 

In a breath of flame, 

To scourge a sinful world. 


THE PROPHET’S DREAM. 


125 


“ Let the Sword go forth !” — And forth it went, 
And gleamed o’er tower and battlement, 

And glanced in the tented field ; 

And helms were cleft, and shields were broke, 
And hearts were bared to the battle stroke, 

Only in death to yield : 

The warriors met — but not to part — 

And the sun glared redly on the scene ; 

And the broken sword, and the trampled heart, 
Might tell where the battle steed had been ; 
Dark and still, by the moon’s pale beam, 
Lay mouldering heaps of slaughtered men — 

The fountain of a sanguine stream — 

Earth drank the blood of her offspring then. 

“ Go forth, Disease !” — And at the word, 

The groans of a stricken world were heard, 

And the voice of wo rose high — 

And myriads yielded up their breath, 

As the haggard form of the tyrant Death, 

On the rotten breeze swept by, 

And the lovely green that overspread 
The world in its guileless day, 

Grew as deeply dark, and sear’d, and dead, 

As the parched earth where it lay. 

With lifeless limbs, the livid trees 
Stood locked in the arms of Death, 

Save one, that still to the withering breeze 
Could lend its poisonous breath. 

Deeply the world, in that drear time, 

Felt the deadly curse of sin and crime. 

11* 


126 


THE PROPHET’S DREAM. 


“ Famine, go forth !” — And at the name 
Rose a feeble shriek, and a fearful laugh, 

And a tottering, fleshless monster came, 

The lingering stream of life to quaff — 

And he stalk’d o’er the earth, and the languid crowds 
Were crush’d to the dust in their mildew’d shrouds : 
Then rose the last of human groans, 

As the shrivell’d skin hung loose on the bones, 

And the stream of life was gone. 

And Death expired on that awful day, 

Where his slaughtered millions round him lay, 

For his fearful task was done. 

Old Earth was lone — for her offspring lay 
Mouldering dark on her bosom of clay ; 

All tones of life were hushed — 

And the brazen tombs of sepulchred men, 

That battled the might of time till then, 

Atom by atom were crushed ; 

And desolate round in its orbit whirl’d 
The peopleless wreck of a worn-out world. 

* * * # # 

The dreamer woke, and the glorious day 
Broke calmly on his dream — 

And the joyous birds from each green spray 
Caroll’d their morning hymn. 

The Earth moved still in beauty there, 

With its clustering groves and emerald plains, 

And the pure breeze bore the prophet’s prayer, 

To the throne where the Rock of Ages reigns. 


BALAAM’S PROPHECY. 


MISS JEWSBURY. 

Surely there is no enchantment against Jacob, neither is there any divination against 
Israel. — Numbers xxiii. 23. 

I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him, but not nigh: there shall come a star out 
of Jacob, and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel. — Ibid. xxiv. 17. 


He waved his wand ! Dark spirits knew 
That rod — yet none obeyed its call ; 

And twice the mystic sign he drew, 

And twice beheld them bootless all : 

Then knew the seer Jehovah’s hand, * 

And crushed the scroll, and broke the wand. 

“ I feel him like a burning fire ; 

When I would curse, my lips are dumb !” 
But from those lips, mid hate and ire, 
Unchecked, the words of blessing come; 
They come, and on his people rest — 

A people by the curser blest ! 

i * 

“ I see them from the mountain top ; 

How fair their dwellings on the plain ! 
Like trees that crown the valley’s slope, 
Like waves that glitter on the main ! 


128 


BALAAM’S PROPHECY. 


Strong, strong the lion slumbering there — 

Who first shall rouse him from his lair ? 

“ Crouch, Amalek ! and thou, vain king ! 
Crouch by thine altars, vainer still ! 

Hear ye the royal shouts that ring 
From Israel’s camp, beneath the hill ? 

They have a God amid their tents, 

Banner, at once, and battlements. 

“ A star shall break through yonder skies, 
And beam on every nation’s sight ; 

From yonder ranks a sceptre rise, 

And bow the nations to its might : 

I see their glorious strength afar — 

All hail, mild Sceptre ! Hail, bright Star ! 

“ And who am I, for whom is flung 
Aside the shrouding veil of time ? 

The seer whose rebel soul is wrung, 

By wrath, and prophecy, and crime — 

The future, as the past, I see, 

Wo then, for Moab ! Wo for me !” 

On Peor’s top the wizard stood, 

Around him Moab’s princes bowed ; 

He bade — and altars streamed with blood, 
And incense wrapped him like a shroud ! 

But vain the rites of earth and hell — 

He spake, — a mastered oracle ! 


WHO COMETH FROM EDOM? 


\ 

JOHN NORRIS. 


Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glo- 
rious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength? I that speak in righteousness, 
mighty to save. 

Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like him that treadeth in the 
wine-fat ? 

I have trodden the wine-press alone; and of the people there was none with me : for I will 
tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury; and their blood shall be sprinkled 
upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment. 

For the day of vengeance is in mine heart, and the year of my redeemed is come. 

And I looked, and there was none to help ; and I wondered that there was none to uphold’ 
therefore mine own arm brought salvation unto me ; and my fury, it upheld me. 

And I will tread down the people in mine anger, and make them drunk in my fury, and I 
will bring down their strength to the earth.— Isaiah lxiii. 1-6. 


Strange scene of glory ! am I well awake, 

Or is ’t my fancy’s wild mistake ? 

It cannot be a dream ; bright beams of light 

Flow from the visions fair, and pierce my tender sight. 

No common vision this ; I see 

i * 

Some marks of more than human majesty. 

Who is this mighty Hero, who, 

With glories round his head, and terror in his brow? 


* 


I 


130 


WHO COMETH FROM EDOM? 


From Bozrah, lo ! He comes ; a scarlet dye 
O’erspreads his clothes, and does outvie 
The blushes of the morning sky. 

Triumphant and victorious He appears, 

And honour in his looks and habit wears : 

How strong He treads, how stately does He go ! 

Pompous and solemn is his pace, 

And full of majesty as his face. 

Who is this mighty Hero, who ? 

’Tis I, who to my promise faithful stand ; 

I, who the powers of death, hell, and the grave 
Have foiled with this all-conquering hand ; 

I, who most ready am, and mighty too, to save. 

Why wearest thou then, this scarlet dye ? 

Say, mighty Hero, why ? 

Why do thy garments look all red, 

Like them that in the wine- vat tread ? 

The wine-press I alone have trod, 

That vast unwieldy frame, which long did stand 
Unmoved, and which no mortal force could e’er command, 
That ponderous mass I plied alone, 

And with me to assist were none. 

A mighty task it was, worthy the Son of God ; 

Angels stood trembling at the dreadful sight, 

Concerned with what success I should go through 
The work I undertook to do ; 

I put forth all my might, 


WHO COMETH FROM EDOM? 


131 


And down the engine pressed ; the violent force 
Disturbed the universe, put nature out of course : 

The blood gushed out in streams, and checkered o’er 
My garments with its deepest gore ; 

With ornamental drops bedecked I stood, 

And writ my victory with my enemy’s blood. 

The day, the signal day is come 
When of my enemies I must vengeance take ; 

The day when Death shall have its doom, 

And the dark kingdom with its powers shall shake. 

Fate in her calendar marked out this day with red, 

She folded down the iron leaf, and thus she said : 

“ This day, if aught I can divine be true, 

Shall, for a signal victory, 

Be celebrated to posterity : 

Then shall the Prince of Light descend, 

And rescue mortals from th’ infernal fiend ; 

Break through his strongest forts, and all his hosts subdue.” 
This said, she shut the adamantine volume close, 

And wished she might the crowding years transpose ; 

So much she longed to have the scene display, 

And see the vast event of this important day. 

And now in midst of the revolving years, 

This great, this mighty One appears : 

The faithful traveller, the sun, 

Has numbered out the days, and the set period run. 

I looked, and to assist was none ; 

My angelic guards stood trembling by, 

But durst not venture nigh. 


132 


WHO COMETH FROM EDOM? 


In vain, too, from my Father did I look 
For help ; my Father me forsook. 

Amazed I was to see, 

How all deserted me, 

I took my fury for my sole support, 

And with my single arm the conquest won. 

Loud acclamations filled all heaven’s court : 

The hymning guards above, 

Strained to an higher pitch of joy and love, 
The great Jehovah praised, and his victorious Son. 


JOHN G. WHITTIER. 


A good land and a large, a land flowing with milk and honey.— Exodus iii. 8. 


Blest land of Judea ! Thrice hallowed of song, 
Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-lik^ throng ; 

In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea, 

On the hills of thy beauty, my heart is with thee. 

With the eye of a spirit, I look on that shore, 

Where pilgrim and prophet have lingered before ; 
With the glide of a spirit, I traverse the sod 
Made bright by the steps of the angels of God. 

Blue sea of the hills ! — in my spirit I hear 
Thy waters, Gennesaret, chime on my ear ; 

Where the Lowly and Just with the people sat down, 
And the spray on the dust of His sandals was thrown. 


134 


PALESTINE. 


Beyond are Bethulia’s mountains of green, 

And the desolate hills of the wild Gadarene ; 

And I pause on the goat-crags of Tabor, to see 
The gleam of thy waters, Oh dark Galilee ! 

Hark, a sound in the valley, where, swollen and strong, 
Thy river, Oh Kishon, is sweeping along ; 

Where the Canaanite strove with Jehovah in vain, 

And thy torrent grew dark with the blood of the slain. 

There, down from his mountains stern Zebulon came, 
And Napthali’s stag, with his eyeballs of flame, 

And the chariots of Jabin rolled harmlessly on, 

For the strength of the Lord was Abinoam’s son ! 

There sleep the still rocks, and the caverns which rang 
To the song which the beautiful prophetess sang, 

When the princes of Issachar stood by her side, 

And the shout of a host in its triumph replied. 

Lo, Bethlehem’s hill-site before me is seen, 

With the mountains around, and the valleys between ; 
There rested the shepherds of Judah, and there 
The song of the angels rose sweet on the air. 

And Bethany’s palm-trees in beauty still throw 
Their shadows at noon on the ruins below ; 

But where are the sisters who hastened to greet 
The lowly Redeemer, and sit at his feet ? 


PALESTINE. 


135 


I tread where the Twelve in their wayfaring trod ; 

I stand where they stood, with the chosen of God — 

Where His blessing was heard, and His lessons were taught, 
Where the blind were restored, and the healing was wrought. 

Oh, here with His flock the sad Wanderer came — 

These hills He toiled over in grief are the same — 

The founts where He drank by the wayside still flow, 

And the same airs are blowing which breathed on His brow ! 

And, throned on her hills sits Jerusalem yet, 

But with dust on her forehead, and chains on her feet ; 

F or the crown of her pride to the mocker hath gone, 

And the holy Shechinah is dark where it shone. 

But wherefore this dream of the earthly abode 
Of humanity clothed in the brightness of God ? 

Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim, 

It could gaze even now, on the presence of Him. 

Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when 
In love and in meekness He moved among men ; 

And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea, 
In the hush of my spirit would whisper to me ! 

And what if my feet may not tread where he stood, 

Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee’s flood, 

Nor my eyes see the cross which he bowed him to bear, 
Nor my knees press Gethsemane’s Garden of Prayer. 


136 


PALESTINE. 


Yet, Loved of the Father, thy Spirit is near 
To the meek and the lowly and penitent here ; 

And the voice of thy Love is the same even now, 

As at Bethany’s tomb, or on Olivet’s brow. 

Oh, the outward hath gone ! — but in glory and power, 
The Spirit surviveth the things of an hour ; 
Unchanged, undecaying, its Pentecost flame 
On the heart’s secret altar is burning the same. 


ELIJAH IN THE DESERT. 

LYDIA JANE PEIRSON. 

And behold the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains and brake 
in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind 
an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 

And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a Still 
Small Voice.— 1 Kings xix. 11, 12. / 


’Twas burning summer o’er the wilderness, 

And on the lofty mountains that look up 
With heads uncovered, reverently to heaven. 

The shrubs were fainting in the noonday heat, 

And the tir’d song-birds droop’d their airy wings 
In silence mid the still and wilted leaves. 

The herbage lay all languid on the rocks, 

The sweet breath of the aromatic vines, 

And rich young flowers of glorious forms and hues, 
That grew in ravine, cleft, or narrow dell, 

Lay on the still air round the drooping cups 
In overpowering fragrance, while a hush 
Of sickly languor brooded over all 
The rough and thirsty landscape. 


12 * 


138 


ELIJAH IN THE DESERT. 


Lo ! there comes 

An aged wanderer from the wilderness. 

With faltering step he lean’d upon his staff. 

While toiling up the stern and rocky side 
Of the majestic Horeb. His white locks 
Were wet with perspiration, and his breast 
Heav’d quick and painfully, while his worn feet 
Flinch’d from the heated rocks ; yet on he climb’d, 

TilL the faint flutter of the breeze’s wing 
Shook balm upon his parch’d and quivering lip, 

And bathed his burning eyeballs. Gratefully 
He rais’d his face tow’rd heaven, and the sweet breeze 
Lifted his damp white locks, and kiss’d his brow. 
Wooing him sweetly to repose and peace. 

He sat him down, that hungry, tired old man. 

Whose tongue was swol’n with thirst, and thank’d his God 
For that delicious airy visitant. 

Which lifting now the tufts of vines that grew 
Upon the rock, beneath whose shade he sat, 

Show’d ripe red berries clustering ’mongst the leaves. 

His joy gush’d forth in praises as he fed 

Upon the cooling fruit, which quenched his thirst, 

And satisfied his hunger. Seeking then 
A resting-place, he found a rugged cave 
Extending deep into the mountain’s breast ; 

He enter’d it, and laid him down to sleep 
Upon its mossy floor. 


And who was he. 

That silver-hair’d, lone wanderer ? He was one 
Whose spirit was so pure that the great God 


ELIJAH IN THE DESERT. 


139 


Held high communion with him. Y et the world 
Hated and hunted him from place to place. 

Dogging his steps, and thirsting for his life ; 

And he had pray’d for death. Yet now he lay 
Calmly in that lone cavern. Holy peace 
Was nestling in his bosom, and his brow 
Was placid as the moonlit summer sky. 

Sleep lay upon his eyelids, as the dew 
Lies upon the closed corolla of the flowers. 

In cool refreshing beauty. No kind friend 
Was there to watch his slumber, yet the God, 

Who fills all space, was with his servant there 
In that vast solitude. With august voice 
He woke him from his sleep, bade him go forth 
And stand upon the rock before the Lord. 

He rose, went forth, and stood on the sheer rock 
Waiting for God’s appearing, 

Hark ! From far 

A fearful rushing sound. The heavens grow dark — 
Is God approaching ? Lo ! a strong fierce wind 
Rushes upon the mountain, tearing up 
The shrubs and herbage from its arid breast, 

Lifting huge rocks from their eternal beds. 

And dashing them adown the fearful steeps, 

With such appalling sounds as if the world . 

Were falling into atoms ; while the wind 
Shriek’d terribly among the caves and clefts 
And splinter’d rocks. ’Tis past and all is still 


140 


ELIJAH IN THE DESERT. 


God was not in the wind. 

Now wakes a sound — 

A deep low moaning in the mountain’s breast, 
Which trembles fearfully, as if she felt 
The dreadful presence. Now her bosom heaves 
With strange convulsions, and she bellows forth 
Her agony, while the eternal rock 
On which the servant of Jehovah stood 
Shook like a leaf upon the aspen bough, 

And mighty rocks fell down, and caverns yawn’d, 
And the whole mountain totter’d. 

It is past 

God was not in the earthquake. 

Lo ! there comes 

A more appalling wonder. Surely now 
The Terrible is near. Surging along, 

Above the wilderness, a flood of fire 
Is sweeping tow’rd the mountain. In its way 
The atmosphere bursts into whirls of flame 
With frightful detonations. ’Tis too much 
For mortal man to meet. With pallid fear 
He shrunk within his cave. The fire rush’d past 
And vanished — but God was not in the fire. 

A pure breeze follow’d the fierce element, 

Heaven was serene, and on Mount Horeb lay 
The downy wing of silence. On that calm 


ELIJAH IN THE DESERT. 


141 


There came a still small voice. 

’Tis God ! The servant feels his Sovereign nigh, 
He wraps his face within his mantle’s folds, 

And at the entrance of that hallow’d cave, 

With head bow’d down, and meek attentive soul, 
Converses with Jehovah. 


THE VINEYARD. 


ANONYMOUS. 


Judge, I pray you, between me and my vineyard.— Isaiah v. 3. 


W here, where are those vineyards, those vineyards so fair, 
That covered thy glittering bound, 

Bright Carmel 'l And where are those clusters, ah, where, 
That, mixed with pomegranates, were wont to declare 
Thee queen of the landscape around ? 

But it was not for thee, stately Palestine’s queen, 

Bereaved, as thou art, of thy glory ; 

It was for that vineyard, that emblem, I ween, 

Of the people of God, when this land was the scene 
Of the wonders that blazed in their story. 

F or this vineyard it was that the dark valleys rung, 

As they echoed the cries of the banished ; 

F or this vineyard it was that the harp, hardly strung, 
Poured wild its last music the mountains among, 

As the land of unfaithfulness vanished. 


THE VINEYARD. 


143 


The holy Belov’d called that vineyard his own, 

While he looked for its grapes to appear : 

Pure grapes, that might answer the care it had known 
From the hand of that Cultor, who travels alone 
Through the round of his handiwork here. 

But wild grapes were all that appeared on the vine. 

And the pleasant plant yielded no sample 
That answered in flavour the culture benign, 

Which nursed it within its enclosure divine, 

Where no foot of the heathen could trample. 

The loud cry of oppression through Judah was heard, 

Till He, who once loved her so well, 

By that cry of oppression to vengeance was stirred, 

And the chastisement due was no longer deferred, 

But fierce on her battlements fell. 

And of God’s holy vineyard no semblance was left, 

Of the wall that enclosed it no trace : 

But of all its defence was that vineyard bereft, 

And the hand of rapacity, riot and theft, 

Left standing no token of grace. 

The wild boar of the East through the vineyard hath passed, 
And nought of its loveliness spared ; 

The idolater first, the Mahomedan last, 

And the curse of the locust, the pestilent blast, 

What remained of its beauty have shared. 


GEORGE CROLY. 


And he dreamed, and beheld a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to 
heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.— Genesis xxviii. 12. 


The sun was sinking on the mountain zone 
That guards thy vale of beauty, Palestine ! 

And lovely from the desert rose the moon, 

Yet lingering on the horizon’s purple line, 

Like a pure spirit o’er its earthly shrine. 

Up Padan-aram’s height, abrupt and bare, 

A pilgrim toiled, and oft on day’s decline 
Looked pale, then paused for eve’s delicious air ; 

The summit gained, he knelt and breathed his evening prayer. 

He spread his cloak and slumbered. Darkness fell 
Upon the twilight hills ; a sudden sound 
Of silver trumpets o’er him seemed to swell ; 

Clouds heavy with the tempest gathered round ; 

Yet was the whirlwind in its caverns bound: 


JACOB’S DREAM. 


145 


Still deeper rolled the darkness from on high, 
Gigantic volume upon volume wound ; 

Above, a pillar shooting to the sky ; 

Below, a mighty sea, that spread incessantly. 

Voices are heard — a choir of golden strings, 

Low winds, whose breath is loaded with the rose ; 
Then chariot wheels, the nearer rush of wings; 

Pale lightning round the dark pavilion glows. 

It thunders — the resplendent gates unclose 
Far as the eye can glance ; on height o’er height 
Rise fiery waving wings, and star-crowned brows, 
Millions on millions, brighter and more bright, 

Till all is lost in one supreme, unmingled light. 

But two beside the sleeping pilgrim stand, 

Like cherub-kings, with lifted, mighty plume, 

Fixed sunbright eyes, and looks of high command : 
They tell the patriarch of his glorious doom ; 
Father of countless myriads that shall come, 
Sweeping the land like billows of the sea, 

Bright as the stars of heaven from twilight’s gloom, 
Till He is given whom angels long to see, 

And Israel’s splendid line is crowned with Deity. 


13 


ISAAC. 


LYRA APOSTOLICA. 


And Isaac trembled very exceedingly, and said, “ Who ? where is he that hath taken veni- 
son, and brought it me, and I have eaten of all before thou earnest Genesis, xxvii. 33. 


Many the guileless years the Patriarch spent, 

Blest in the wife a father’s foresight chose ; 

Many the prayers and gracious deeds which rose — 
Daily thank-offerings from his pilgrim tent. 

Yet those, though written in the heavens, are rent 
From out truth’s lower roll, which sternly shows 
But one sad trespass at his history’s close, 

Father’s, son’s, mother’s, and its punishment. 

Not in their brightness, but their earthly stains 
Are the true seed vouchsafed to earthly eyes. 

Sin can read sin, but dimly scans high grace : 

So we move heavenward with averted face, 

Scared into faith by warning of sin’s pains ; 

And saints are lowered that the world may rise. 









■ 

















V 





































f 















% 














I 















✓ 
















l 




















s * 

























* 













% 














































A\ 


CO) m k T 1 IHl 


ih! © y 


rp 

@ It 










JACOB IN THE HOUSE OF LABAN. 


JULIAN CRAMER. 


Thus have I been twenty years in thy house ; I served thee fourteen years for thy two 
daughters, and six years for thy cattle : and thou hast changed my wages ten times.— Genesis 
xx.xi. 41. 


Oh father of a princely line ! We see 
Thee here, a slave in willing shackles bound, 

But humanized and to our level brought. 

Thou, from whose loins sprang kings, and lastly Him 
Whose birth gave life to myriads lost in sin, 

Art present to us as the ardent youth, 

With passions and affections like our own. 

We see thee toiling for those seven long years — 

At once the price and token of thy love — 

For Rachel, unto whom thy heart doth cleave. 
Perchance those years were full of bitterness : 

Thou hadst the promise , but thou wert a slave ; 

And yet, methinks thy bonds were silken ones, 

For thou wert but the prisoner of love. 

How wert thou when thy consciousness revealed 
The face of Leah ? Did thy spirits sink 
And heart grow bitter from that sad deceit ? 


148 JACOB IN THE HOUSE OF LABAN. 

We know not ; but thy character appears 
More bright by after conduct. Seven years more 
Thou servedst for the Rachel of thy love. 

And took her to thy faithful breast at last. 

What lesson learn we from thy constancy ? 

Is ’t not that unto her who won our heart 
In early youth our manhood still should cling ? 

Is \ not that love well placed and well deserved 
Is in itself a boon to be desired, 

And sought for, even with toil and servitude ? 


JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN. 


ELIZABETH ROWE. 


Then Joseph could not refrain himself before all them that stood by him ; and he cried, 
“ Cause every man to go out from me:” and there stood no man with him, while Joseph made 
himself known unto his brethren. 

And he wept aloud ; and the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh heard. 

And Joseph said unto his brethren, “I am Joseph; doth my father yet live?” And his 
brethren could not answer him ; for they were troubled at his presence.— Genesis xlv. 1, 2, 3. 

He searched their burdens round ; 

At last the cup in Benjamin’s was found : 

With wild despair their folding vests they rent, 

And backward to the royal office went. 


The regent here, but oh ! how changed, they find, 
No more the mild, beneficent and kind, 

But fiercely asking, in an altered tone, 

“ What wrong is this your guilty hands have done? 
You well might know, where dress and learning shine, 
A man like me must certainly divine.” 

Prostrate they fall, while Judah, for the rest, 

With mingled sighs their mutual grief expressed : 


13 * 


150 


JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN. 


“ What can I say ? How shall thy servant speak ( 

In what prophetic words my silence break ? 

What energy of language shall I find, 

To paint the wild distraction of my mind ? 

Justice Divine, with keen revenge begins 
To reckon up our lengthened score of sins ; 

Our secret crimes this rigorous stroke demand ; 

And self-condemned, we here thy vassals stand.” 

“ No,” cries the generous regent, “ only he 
With whom the cup was found, my slave shall be; 
Return in peace, your needless fears resign, 

This youth, a public criminal, is mine.” 

When Judah thus (still gently drawing near), 

“ Be pleased, my lord, to lend a gracious ear, 

While I the tender circumstance repeat, 

And for my father’s hoary age entreat. 

Two lovely boys, the pleasure of his life, 

And only offspring of a beauteous wife ; 

The elder branch, by an untimely death, 

Snatched from his arms, long since resigned his breath ; 
The youngest, who does now his care engage, 

The single prop of his declining age, 

The constant theme of every pleasing thought, 

Your strict command, my lord, has hither brought: 

Our sire (thy servant) long refused to grant 
The pressing suit, till forced by meagre want, 

And just concern, to clear our injured truth, 

He to my conduct gave the gentle youth. 


JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN. 


151 


“ But, oh ! what killing anguish pierced his heart. 
When thus compelled with Benjamin to part : 

With all the eloquence that filial love 
Could e’er inspire, to calm his fears I strove ; 

But all in vain, on dismal thoughts intent, 

If mischief should his blooming life prevent, 

‘ My hoary hairs,’ he said, ‘ with grief oppress’d, 
Must to the gloomy grave descend for rest.’ 

“ And I, unhappy, whither shall I go 
To shun that dark, distracting scene of wo? 

My father’s wretchedness I cannot see, 

Deprived of every future joy by me ; 

For I, with all the arguments I had. 

Became myself a surety for the lad, 

And must again the precious pledge restore, 

Or see my aged parent’s face no more. 

“ My lord, you seem to have a tender heart, 
(Though sometimes forced to act a rigorous part,) 
This first unfortunate offence forgive, 

Oh let thy servant here a vassal live, 

A bond-slave in my youngest brother’s stead. 
Condemned no more my native soil to tread.” 

No longer Joseph could his tears control, 

Or hide the soft emotions of his soul ; 

Relenting signs the watchful Hebrews saw, 

In haste he bids th’ attendants all withdraw. 

“ I am your brother Joseph,” then he cries, 

With tears and smiling goodness in his eyes, 


152 


JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN. 


“ That brother you to Midian merchants sold 
On Dothan’s plain — nor need the rest be told.” 

The cruel fact, alas, too well they knew, 

And with disordered looks each other view. 

He then demands, “ How fares my honoured sire ?” 
Confused and mute they farther off retire ; 

A guilty shame on every face was spread. 

“ Come near, my brethren,” then he mildly said, 

“ Reflect not on yourselves, with thoughts severe, 

It was not you, but God, that sent me here ; 

His goodness ruled the circumstance and place, 

To save the stock of Abram’s sacred race ; 

Five years of cruel famine yet remain, 

While, destitute of hope, the careful swain 
Shall neither sow nor reap — the burning soil 
Untilled shall lie, or mock his fruitless toil : 

But Heaven has sent me here to save your lives, 

Your infant offspring and your tender wives. 

“ Th’ Egyptian king, in every virtue great, 

Ordains me second ruler in the state ; 

The strength, the power, the wealth of all the land, 
Without restraint, are trusted to my hand. 

Return, and in your father’s ear relate 
The plenty, pomp, and grandeur of my state ; 

Tell him I long his hoary age to greet, 

And throw myself in raptures at his feet : 

Let him come down to Goshen’s healthful air, 

His whole domestic charge shall be my care. 


JOSEPH AND IIIS BRETHREN. 


153 


“ Dismiss your fears, this painful silence break ! 

You see a friend ! you hear a brother speak ! 

Behold the tender motions of my heart, 

No more disguised with grandeur, or with art ! 
Regard me well, the kindred features trace, 

You’ll find the prints of nature in my face !” 

Then clasping round his youngest brother’s neck, 
No longer strives the gushing tears to check ; 

The friendly ardour throws off all disguise, 

While nature sits triumphant in his eyes ; 

Nor less delight transports the gentle youth, 

Replete with goodness, innocence and truth ; 

In mutual sympathy their souls were tried, 

And more by virtue than by birth allied. 

Saluting then the rest, with mild address 
He clears their doubts and softens their distress ; 
Conversing freely, now they quit their fears, 

While Pharaoh, pleased, the new adventure hears ; 
And in his clemency and royal grace, 

Commands the viceroy some selected place 
Should be assigned on Goshen’s rich champaign, 

His father’s numerous charge to entertain. 

The regent now, impatient of delay, 

With costly presents sends the men away, 

But with a sparkling Babylonian vest 

His youngest friend was graced above the rest. 

“ Make haste,” he said, “ to bring my father down ; 
Tell him I live, and be my greatness known ; 


154 


JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN. 


Take wagons for convenience on the way, 

Y our wives and helpless children to convey ; 

Nor care to gather up your needless stores, 

The wealth of Zoan’s plenteous land is yours.” 

At Hebron soon their speedy journey ends, 

The good old man their coming now attends ; 

Where, scarce arrived, at once they all relate 
The welcome news of Joseph’s prosp’rous state. 

“ Why would you mock my wo with airy schemes,’ 
He fainting said, “ of gay fantastic dreams V 9 
But soon the loaded carriages appear. 

Recall his life, his drooping spirits cheer. 

“ My Joseph lives ! transporting truth !” he cries, 

“ I’ll see his face, and close my aged eyes : 

Content, resign these poor remains of breath, 

And gently rest in the calm shades of death.” 


“HOW OLD ART THOU?” 


S. D. PATTERSON. 


And Pharaoh said unto Jacob, “ How old art thou ?” — Genesis xlvii. 8. 


I. 

How old art thou ? Is life , s fair morning glowing 
In glorious beauty o’er thee ? Does thy heart, 

With hope and fancy’s dreamy bliss o’erflowing, 

Deem earth a paradise, where sorrow’s smart, 

Nor grief, nor fear may come ? Is pleasure flinging 
Fair flowers and precious fruits about thy way, 

And, from its treasure-house of blessings, bringing 
New joys to charm and make thy spirit gay ? 

O ! in the sunlight of thy young heart’s gladness, 

Remember thou that chance and change may come, 

E’en unto thee, and, with a cloud of sadness. 

Wrap thy bright visions in funereal gloom — 

And, though the saddening thought calls forth an anxious sigh, 
Think that, though few thy years, thou’rt old enough to die ! 


156 


“HOW OLD ART THOU?” 


II. 

How old art thou 1 Is youth’s gay season over ? 

Hast learned that life and joy are things apart ? 

And dost thou wear a sunny smile, to cover 
The anguish of a disappointed heart ? 

Or, are life’s loveliest gifts spread out before thee — 

No good withheld, no fond desire denied — 

Hath fortune waved her golden sceptre o’er thee, 
Bidding each longing wish be gratified ? 

Or, hath Ambition’s magic influence bound thee, 

Luring thee onward to some lofty height 
Above thy peers, where the proud world around thee 
May gaze, admire, and own thy spirit’s might '! 

Alas ! nor grief, nor bliss, nor aspirations high, 

Can turn Fate’s shaft aside. Thou’rt old enough to die ! 


III. 

How old art thou ? Thou feeble man, and hoary, 

Gay youth and manhood’s prime have passed away — 

And, on thy brow, Time’s record tells the story 
Of ripening years, and nature’s sure decay, 

As lengthening shadows mark the day declining, 

Life’s dial-plate denotes thy setting sun — 

And soon, all earthly cares and thoughts resigning, 

Thou’lt rest in calm repose, thy labour done. 

The past, with all its mingled joys and sorrows, 

Its wealth and honours, can be nought to thee — 

When, from the future, thy worn spirit borrows 
Visions, which prompt fond longings to be free ; 

And taste of bliss, unknown to mortal sense or eye, 

Eternal in the heavens. Rejoice ! ’Tis time for thee to die ! 


THE EXODUS 


V 


SAMUEL HATES. 

By faith Moses, when he was come to years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s 
daughter ; 

Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of 
sin for a season ; 

Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt : for he had 
respect unto the recompense of the reward. 

By faith he forsook Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king: for he endured, as seeing him 
who is invisible. 

Through faith he kept the passover, and the sprinkling of blood, lest he that destroyed the 
first-born should touch them. 

By faith they passed through the Red Sea as by dry land : which the Egyptians assaying to 
do were drowned. — Hebrews xi. 24-29. 


At length the elected child to manhood grown, 
Though royalty adopts him for her own, 

Though pleasure, pomp, and all the charms which wait 
On opulence, or empire’s gorgeous state, 

Spread their soft blandishments, e’en at the age 
When the fierce passions burn with tenfold rage, 

When in the bosom desolate desire 
Awakens lust, and lights the wanton fire, 

14 


158 


THE EXODUS. 


The son of Amram spurns the regal prize; 

From the rich scene the zealous hero flies, 

And dwells ’mongst Israel’s sons. Resigned he bears 
The servile yoke, and ev’ry burden shares. 

Rather than violate Jehovah’s trust, 

And live the pampered slave of sordid lust, 

He quits th’ Egyptian court, and, undismay’d, 

Seeks poverty’s inhospitable shade. 

There, with the shackled captive doom’d to bow, 

The son of Amram durst his faith avow, 

And vindicate his God. What time he saw 
The savage minister of Pharaoh’s law 
Insult a slave, with brave resentment warm, 

’Gainst the stern lord he rais’d the vengeful arm. 
Hence forc’d to fly ; for now, with wrath inflam’d, 
Pharaoh the bold offender’s life proclaim’d ; 

In shepherd’s garb, amidst the Arabian swains, 

He tends the flock upon the Midian plains. 

As chance, in search of cool refreshing shade, 

Far in the desert’s winding vale he stray’d, 

He came near Horeb’s sacred mount. Anon, 
Jehovah’s Majesty conspicious shone. 

Lo ! from a bush, in many a radiant spire, 

Shot forth uninterrupted flames of fire : 

Though wrapt in flames, entire the bush remains ; 
Unscorch’d, its wonted verdure yet retains. 

Moses approach’d ; aw’d by the wond’rous sight, 
With dubious step, approach’d the streaming light, 
From the bright flames, in all his pow’r confess’d, 
The living God his servant thus address’d : — 


THE EXODUS. 


159 


“ No nearer come ! within this secret bound, 

Thou tread’st Jehovah’s consecrated ground. 

I am thy God ; that all-pervading Lord 
Whom Israel’s faithful patriarchs erst ador’d ; 

The God who now o’er Israel’s race presides ; 

Whose outstretch’d arm defends, whose counsel guides. 
Affliction’s poignant cry, the heartfelt groan 
Of deep distress, have reach’d th’ ethereal throne. 

I come, their guide, their tutelary God, 

To avenge their cause, and break the tyrant’s rod ; 

To lead my people forth to those blest plains 
Where freedom dwells, and plenty ever reigns, 

Even to Canaan’s fields, that blissful seat, 

By ancient promise doom’d their safe retreat. 

Be thou the herald of the grand design ! 

To thee that gracious office I assign. 

Hence to the Memphian court, and there relate 
To Egypt’s king the op’ning scheme of fate ! 

There, in the name of Him, that pow’r above, 

From whom all things exist, in whom they move, 

Plead Israel’s cause ! The tyrant, well I know, 

Will with redoubled indignation glow ; 

Yet fear not thou — dismiss the vain alarm ! 

Beneath the umbrage of Jehovah’s arm 
Thou shalt unhurt remain. Wide o’er the land, 

In various forms, at my supreme command, 

Dire pestilence shall walk his baleful round, 

And blast with terror the devoted ground. 

Pharaoh at last, who, swoll’n with impious pride, 

All pow’r on earth, all pow’r in heav’n defied, 

Pharaoh at length shall yield. — But, lest thou deem 
Jehovah’s presence here an empty dream, 


160 


THE EXODUS. 


Conviction now receive. — Throw down thy rod ; 

That will evince the ever-living God.” 

He spake. — The rod, with vital spirit fraught, 
Portentous change ! a serpent’s figure caught, 

Anon, the touch all vital strength repress’d ; 

The rod again its former shape possess’d. 

“ Take this,” the Almighty said, “ and should distress, 
Should Pharaoh’s harsh decrees on Israel press. 

Be this thy confidence, thy sure resource — 

The potent rod will break tyrannic force ; 

Will draw down ample vengeance from above, 

Thy words confirm, thy holy mission prove.” 

Moses, thus warn’d, retires. Yet dubious still. 
Though thus reveal’d Jehovah’s gracious will. 

He trembles at the arduous task ; alarm’d. 

Lest the weak falt’ring tongue, by fear disarm’d. 

Betray the solemn trust. From nature meek, 

E’en upon trivial themes unapt to speak ; 

Whence could he hope, ’midst Egypt’s haughty lords, 
To soothe the tyrant with persuasive words ? 

At Horeb’s mount (where God vouchsaf’d to appear, 
And converse held with the appointed seer) 

Aaron his brother meets : in utt’rance bold. 

Him the Almighty destines to unfold 

The solemn charge. And first, to Israel’s race 

They ope the system of celestial grace ; 

Strength to th’ exhausted soul their words dispense, 
And arm with faith the fluctuating sense. 

Nor brooks th’ important business long delay. 

Instant to Pharaoh’s court they bend their way : 


THE EXODUS. 


161 


In Pharaoh’s presence, with undaunted look, 

Invoking heav’n the sacred herald spoke : — 

“ Of Hebrew lineage sprung, to thee, O King, 

The high behests of Israel’s God we bring. 

His chosen sons, from their own plains expell’d, 

In abject servitude by thee are held. 

Their God commands, that hence they now retire, 

And in the desert wake the altar’s fire ; 

That there to Him, their Lord, in whom they live, 

They now the tributary homage give. 

Spurn not our words ! that Pow’r in whom we bend 
Will, with unerring arms, His sons defend.” 

“ Think not,” the monarch cried, " by vain parade 
Of specious words, my judgments to evade. 

Your God we know not, and his pow’r disclaim ; 

Be ’t yours to venerate th’ ideal name. 

When Pharaoh’s breast with indignation glows, 

What mortal arm shall dare his wrath oppose ? 

Who dares, a victim falls ; swept from the world, 

And to the nether shades of darkness hurl’d. 

Here, for so stands my purpose, fixed as fate, 

Shall Israel’s wayward tribes in bondage wait ; 

Until, exhausted by incessant toil, 

Cut off for ever from their native soil, 

They bend obsequious to the Memphian throne ; 

Own me their king, and homage me alone.” 

Proud Pharaoh thus, — When lo ! (such heav’n’s command,) 
Aaron threw down the wonder-working wand. 

14 * 


162 


THE EXODUS. 


Straight, to a serpent’s figure changed, he breathes. 
Erects his chest, and rolls his glitt’ring wreaths. 
Pharaoh, abashed, invokes the magic seers — 

A serpent every magic rod appears. 

But short the triumph, when frail mortals dare 
Against th’ Almighty wage presumptuous war. 

The rod of Aaron, with rapacious force. 

Amidst his rivals winds his baneful course ; 

Nor rests, ’till, buried in the victor’s womb. 

Each magic serpent meets his fatal doom. 

The tyrant king inflexible remains : 

Obdurate still, all fealty disdains. 

Horror be now the theme. — Destruction wakes : 
From her wide urn o’er all the land she shakes 
Vindictive pestilence. The Nile no more 
With rich abundance laves the fertile shore ; 

Each lake and pool, and ev’ry tainted flood. 

Sway’d by the rod of Moses, teems with blood. 

Lo ! where, exhausted by the fervent ray. 

The listless cattle from their pasture stray. 

And seek the well-known stream — alas ! in vain ; 

No draught allays the fever’s burning pain. 

No more the waters vital pow’r supply ; 

In countless shoals the scaly tenants die. 

Infection spreads, and from her humid wings. 

Wide through the air the mortal poison flings. 

Seven days the plague remains. Yet Pharaoh spurns 
Th’ attested mission, and with rancour burns. 

Moses again his potent arm outspread — 

From the prolific river’s slimy bed 


THE EXODUS. 


163 


Myriads of frogs arise. In dread array 
The legions march, and dim the face of day. 
Around the bridal bed, at the rich board. 

With luxury’s voluptuous treasures stor’d. 

E’en in the tyrant’s palace, where, so late, 

Loose pleasure reign’d in all the pride of state, 

The loath’d intruders swarm. Next from the sand. 
Pregnant with life, throughout the guilty land 
Infectious vermin rankle. Hosts of flies, 

Arm’d with sharp stings, in ev’ry quarter rise, 

Save Goshen’s plains ; discriminating grace 
Shields the blest spot, and fosters Israel’s race. 

Anon, on flocks and herds, and all the train 
Which, form’d for man, tenant the sylvan plain, 
Contagion lights. The animated steed 
Loaths the full pasture of the verdant mead : 

Cold sweat bedews his limbs, the chest distends, 
And the long sob his inmost bowels rends : 
Prostrate he falls, and dies. The faithful steer, 
Whose labour oft with plenty crown’d the year, 
I^iervate droops, and to the shades of death 
Unprofitably yields his parting breath. 

Nor yet alone ’mong beasts the plague prevails ; 
Man next the pestilential storm assails. 

Ulcers and boils, in one continued sore, 

Through the distracted frame contagion pour. 
Medicine in vain its varied pow’r applies ; 

The noisome pestilence all skill defies. 


164 


THE EXODUS. 


The magic seers, spite of their boasted art, 

E’en to themselves no lenient aid impart. 

But still amidst these scenes of dire distress, 

On Israel’s chosen sons no troubles press. 

Their flocks, unconscious of the baneful change, 
Securely through the peaceful valley range ; 
Untouch’d, their oxen ply th’ accustom’d toil, 

Break the hard glebe, and renovate the soil, 
Themselves, from pestilential fury free, 

Bent to their guardian God the suppliant knee. 

While thus the kingdom, to its utmost verge, 

The terrors of almighty vengeance scourge, 

The tyrant shakes with fear ; for magic aid, 

His firm resource, is now in vain essay’d. 

But what can quench ambition’s proud desire ; 

E’en disappointment kindles stronger fire. 

Like clouds, which in a moment pass away, 

Melting before the sun’s meridian ray, 

His fears are soon dispell’d. His breast again 
Burns with the flame of arrogant disdain. 

Anon, the livid streams of lightning glare, 
Convulsive thunder rends the conscious air : 

From the wide op’ning sky, like iron balls, 
Reiterated hail on Egypt falls ; 

Hail, mix’d with flames ; in many a gleaming train, 
Shoots the quick fire, and runs along the plain. 

Nor tree nor house, so strong the tempest beats, 

Nor tree nor house afford secure retreats. 

The oak no more, with outstretch’d arms display’d, 
To the faint herd dispenses cooling shade; 


THE EXODUS. 


165 


The storm hath scath’d his venerable brow, 

And sever’d from his trunk the spreading bough. 
Transfix’d with poignant grief, the peasant stands ; 
Sees desolation o’er his blasted lands 
Gigantic sweep. Where, but the day before, 

Fond fancy treasur’d up the copious store ; 

Where herb and tree, with rich luxuriance crown’d, 
So late bedeck’d the variegated ground ; 

There now the eye no grateful verdure cheers ; 

On ev’ry side a dreary waste appears. 

Moses, at length, for grace and mercy pleads. 

The storm is hush’d, a gentle calm succeeds ; 

But short its date ; for, as his fears subside, 

The tyrant burns with renovated pride. 

Swift as the sever’d waves in union join, 

Where the keel formed the momentary line ; 

As the faint track, mark’d by the arrow’s flight, 
Which in a moment, ’scapes the keenest sight : 

So soon his fears subside — mere idle wind, 

Which passeth by, nor leaves a trace behind. 

As if the God of Israel ne’er had hurl’d 
His righteous thunder o’er a guilty world. 

Sooth’d by the incense of the flatt’ring herd, 
Imperious Pharaoh scorns Jehovah’s word. 

From the contagious east, all day, all night, 

O’er Egypt shedding pestilential blight, 

The tempest blows. Scarce had the solar ray, 
Through heaven’s expanse, announc’d the orient day. 
Like a dark cloud, which, sweeping from the main, 
Pours devastation o’er the delug’d plain, 


166 


THE EXODUS. 


Rapacious locusts wing their flight. Whate’er 
The thunder, fire, and hail had deign’d to spare, 

The greedy spoilers seize ; nor herb, nor flow’r, 

Nor stately tree, escape the noxious pow’r. 

As where the drifted sands in whirlwinds fly, 

Parch’d by the fervour of the torrid sky, 

The desert regions, seat of want and wo, 

No vestige of prolific influence show ; 

Such Egypt is : a solitary wild, 

A waste, where genial nature never smil’d. 

And, dire completion, with expanded wings, 

From her drear cell incumbent darkness springs. 

And broods o’er Egypt. Three succeeding days 
The shrouded sun withdraws his wonted rays. 

In the wide circuit of th’ ethereal sphere, 

Three tedious nights, nor moon nor stars appear. 

The watchful shepherd, while his flock he tends, 

Oft tow’rds the eastern goal expectant bends ; 

Hour after hour o’er the envelop’d lawn 
Points the strain’d eye, and chides the tardy dawn ; 
But chides in vain. From the meridian height, 
Though the sun now should dart effulgent light, 

(As when through heav’n night’s denser vapours roll,) 
E’en darkness palpable enshrouds the pole. 

Meantime, bewilder’d by the thwarting shade, 

From the known pasture flocks and herds had stray’d. 
Here, the deep torrent intercepts their way. 

And in its gulf involves th’ unconscious prey ; 

There, down the precipice, whose rugged brow 
Tremendous frowns upon the vale below, 

Whole herds are whelm’d ; the glory of the plain, 

The boasted treasure of the sylvan swain. 


THE EXODUS. 


167 


As through the desolate and bleak domains, 

Where, six revolving moons, chill darkness reigns, 

Pent in the confines of their narrow cell. 

Exil’d from life’s prime bliss, the cheerless natives dwell : 
Th’ Egyptians thus, by heaven’s severe award, 

Of ev’ry social intercourse debarr’d, 

And, plung’d in night’s impenetrable gloom, 

(All toil suspended,) mourn their hapless doom. 

The outcast pleads in vain, in vain implores ; 

Fear bars the known, once hospitable doors. 

The venerable sire, whose languid frame 
Scarce feels the impulse of the vital flame, 

Neglected groans. No lenient friends assuage 
The complicated woes of helpless age ; 

And, spite of nature’s iterated cries, 

The trembling infant unassisted lies. 

Fain would the mother (ev’ry want suppress’d) 

Breathe the soft slumber o’er the troubled breast ! 
Fruitless her zeal. — The deep involving shade 
Thwarts the fond wish, and checks maternal aid. 

While thus the shades of midnight overwhelm 
E’en to the extremest bound, the impious realm, 

The tribes of Israel stand secure. — By day, 

Th’ unclouded sun emits his wonted ray ; 

From Heav’n’s wide arch, the moon and stars, by night, 
Shed the mild influence of serener light. 

Nine times, in desolation’s form array’d, 

Jehovah now His judgments had display’d ; 

Yet all are scorn’d; no judgments can assuage 
The stubborn purpose of the despot’s rage. 


168 


THE EXODUS. 


Though scarce a gleam of flatt’ring hope remain, 
Though through the land appalling famine reign, 
Inflexible in guilt’s adopted path, 

Indignant Pharaoh spurns Jehovah’s wrath. 

And shall celestial justice check its plan, 

Aw’d by the puny arm of froward man ? 

Shall vengeance throw th’ uplifted bolt aside, 

Arrested by the threats of regal pride ? 

Vain thought ! Though late the fatal bolt be sped, 
Perdition will o’erwhelm th’ offender’s head. 

That mercy, which so oft had^ interpos’d 
For guilty Egypt, is for ever clos’d. 

The storm of direr horror takes her place, 

And breaks tremendous on the harden’d race. 

’Twas night, and, through the land, oblivious sleep 
O’er the exhausted sense began to creep. 

In darkness shrouded, from th’ ethereal height 
Th’ exterminating angel takes his flight ; 

Dread delegate of Israel’s injur’d Lord, 

In his right hand he bears th’ attesting sword, 

And smites th’ Egyptian realm. Rous’d by the cries, 
The groans, which now from ev’ry quarter rise, 
Pharaoh starts up alarm’d, and sees, dire sight ! 

His son consign’d to death’s eternal night. 

His eldest son, the parent’s pleasing care, 

Pride of his life, and Egypt’s boasted heir. 

Unseen the hand which gives the mortal wound, 
Life’s ebbing current streams upon the ground. 

Nor mourn’d the king alone : through all the land, 

Cut off by heaven’s exterminating hand, 


THE EXODUS. 


1C9 


E’en from the palace to the rural shed, 

Egypt’s first born, Jehovah’s victims, bled — 
First-born of man and beast. Heaps of the slain 
Strew ev’ry field, and cover ev’ry plain. 

But O ! what words can paint the dire affright, 

Or match the horrors of the fatal night ? 

Amidst the judgments, from Jehovah pour’d, 

In attestation dread of Israel’s Lord, 

Though of life’s animating joys bereft, 

When scarce a dream of flatt’ring hope was left, 

The parent, (in misfortune’s darkest hour, 

So strong, O Nature ! thy sustaining pow’r,) 

Blest by the presence of her darling child, 

E’en then the parent ev’ry fear beguil’d. 

Where now, sad change ! where can the sufPrer find 
Assuaging comfort to the wounded mind ? 

For ever lost is he who could allay 
Life’s varied ills, chase ev’ry care away ; 

In whom, when fortune smil’d, the parent found 
Her happier lot with twofold blessings crown’d. 
Pierc’d with the agonies of dumb despair, 

The mother sinks upon her bleeding heir. 

Amidst the general carnage of the night, 

No terrors on the tribe of Israel light. 

Aw’d by the sprinkled blood, which mark’d the place, 
(Discriminating sign of heav’nly grace,) 

From them, in mercy’s milder form array’d, 

The angel turns aside the reeking blade. 

To w r hat superior arm, O God, save thine, 

Can man such desolating pow’r assign ? 


15 


170 


THE EXODUS. 


Or what, save thy benignant, guardian care, 

Can, in the midst of public carnage, spare ? 

Conscious of this, and overwhelm’d with dread, 

Lest heavier judgments strike th’ offender’s head, 

The tyrant yields, convenes the rev’rend seers, 

And, trembling, thus unfolds his gloomy fears : — 

“ From Egypt’s confines take your destin’d way, 
Pharaoh no more displays tyrannic sway. 

Your God, that God who shakes the Memphian throne, 
Him now Almighty I vouchsafe to own. 

Hence with your flocks and herds, e’en all your train, 
nd bend your steps towards th’ appointed plain ! 

There, as religion’s institutes require, 

Upon the altar wake the sacred fire. 

The Deity, in whom your tribes confide, 

Be He your health, your tutelary guide. 

And as to Him ye bend the suppliant knee, 

Amidst your fervent vows, forget not me.” 

Thus Pharaoh spake, and straight, blest sound to hear, 
The note of freedom struck the ravish’d ear. 

Rescued from servitude’s oppressive chains, 

The sons of Israel crowd the hated plains ; 

Eager to leave the tyrant’s dire abode, 

And once again adore the living God. 

Nor with less zeal (this is their last resource) 

Th’ Egyptians quicken their intended course. 

From ev’ry part they come ; (so Heav’n’s control 
Softens the fierceness of the hostile soul) 

They come ; and, from their secret stores, produce 
Whate’er can tend to ornament or use ; 


THE EXODUS. 


171 


Treasures of gold, and vests of various dye 
They bring ; and freely Israel's wants supply. 

All now complete, while joy fires ev’ry heart, 

F rom Egypt's realm the num'rous bands depart. 
E’en a whole nation moves in long array, 

And to the desert take their destin'd way. 

Though through the Philistean kingdom runs 
A nearer track, forewarn’d, that Israel shuns : 

Lest loose idolatry's alluring charm, 

With softer blandishments, the mind disarm ; 
Unnerve the soul, and from the hallow’d law, 

In pleasure's form, its better hopes withdraw : 

Or lest, by formidable hosts enclos'd, 

And inexpert themselves, to war expos’d, 

They backward turn, at death’s distracting thought, 
Preferring life, although with freedom bought. 
Hence through the wilderness, as Heav’n decreed, 
In long array th' exulting tribes proceed : 

And with them (at the prescient hour of death, 

So will’d the aged seer's departing breath) 

Are carried Joseph's bones. By Heav’n inspir’d, 
With freedom's animating prospect fir'd, 

The distant time the rev'rend seer foresaw, 

When Israel should from Egypt’s realm withdraw. 

Nor absent is their God. A cloud by day, 
Preceding, ascertains th' appointed way ; 

A pillar of celestial fire by night 
Around their tents sheds tutelary light. 

At length to Migdol Moses leads the host, 

Where the deep stream leaves the Arabian coast ; 


172 


THE EXODUS. 


There they encamp. — Meantime the tyrant’s breast, 

(So soon the dread of judgment is supprest) 

Glows with revenge. “ Shall Pharaoh then, (he cried) 
By Israel’s rebel tribes be thus defied? 

A dastard host of contumelious slaves 
Spurns my supremacy, my vengeance braves. 

Shall Egypt’s King submit, and let foul shame 
Blast the fair honours of his royal name ? 

No. — Perish all, victims to Pharaoh’s rage, 

Who dare presumptuous war ’gainst Egypt wage. — 
Fortune no more the sanguine hope beguiles ; 

Prompt to our wish, the partial goddess smiles. 

Near the deep stream encamp’d, the tribes afford 
An easy prey to Egypt’s thirsty sword. 

And shall we, summon’d by benignant fate. 

Though thus dishonour’d, still inactive wait ? 

Forbid it shame. Prepare the martial car, 

Range the swift steeds, and pour the tide of war. 
Nought can wipe off the stains of foul disgrace. 

Save the extinction of the sullen race.” 

Thus spake the tyrant. — All approve the doom ; 

Gird on the sword, and shake the crested plume. 
Revenge inspires the threat’ning band, but more 
The keen remembrance of their golden store ; 

The gifts which they on Israel’s sons bestow’d. 

The raging breast with tenfold fury goad. 

Fir’d by the prospect of unbounded prey, 

The mar shad’d troops advance in firm array. 

Thron’d in his car, stern Pharaoh takes the lead : 

E’en now anticipates the glorious deed ; 


THE EXODUS. 


173 


E’en now, in fond imagination lost, 

Returns triumphant o’er the routed host. 

Through Israel’s camp th’ alarming tidings spread, 
And overwhelm the soul with gloomy dread. 

In ev’ry quarter blank despair appears ; 

Indignant murmurs next bespeak their fears. 

“ Is this the boasted freedom, this the prize, 

For which from Egypt’s tyrant Israel flies ? 

In front, the sea displays its foaming surge ; 

Behind, the sanguinary legions urge ; 

What arm can counteract the fatal blow ? 

Who rescue Israel from the vengeful foe? 

Far better fate in bondage to remain, 

And groan beneath oppression’s galling chain, 

Than perish thus, whelm’d in the closing flood, 

Or dye the hostile plain with sacred blood.” — 

And, dar’st thou thus, presumptuous Israel, vent 
The bold surmise of peevish discontent ? 

Dar’st thou, precipitate, that God disown, 

Whose judgments aw’d the monarch’s tott’ring throne ? 
That God, who oft, for Israel’s tribes, display’d 
Th’ attesting wonders of supernal aid ? 

Think’st thou, that He, aw’d by the arm of man, 

Will abrogate redemption’s gracious plan ? 

Who rests beneath Jehovah’s outstretched wings, 

May brave the menace of opposing Kings. 

And lo ! the sable cloud, (auspicious sign !) 

Which kept the foot from error’s devious line, 

15 * 


174 


THE EXODUS. 


Moves to the rear ; and, lest the foe pursue. 

With thwarting gloom obscures the baffled view, 
Yet still, amidst night’s dark and low’ring shades, 
The camp of Israel genial light pervades. 

Moses towards the sea extends his rod, 

The potent symbol of th’ inspiring God. 

From the bleak east all night the tempest beats : 
Backward all night th’ arrested sea retreats. 

Soon as the morning dawn’d, ’midst the wide flood. 
Whose waves, like crystal walls, collected stood, 
Dry land appears. Onward the trepid host 
Securely pass, and gain the adverse coast. 

Nor linger Pharaoh’s bands. Swflft o’er the plain, 
The chariots roll towards the sever’d main. 

And now, anticipating full success, 

Through the deep gulf th’ imbattled legions press. 
Once more the son of Amram suppliant bends. 

And o’er the parted waves his rod extends. 

By Heav’n impell’d, on Israel’s vaunting foes, 

With dreadful crash the confluent waters close. 
Dread proof what judgments on the impious wait ; 
Not one escapes exterminating fate. 


THE ROD OF AARON. 


FELICIA HEMANS. 


And it came to pass, that on the morrow Moses went into the tabernacle of witness: and, 
behold, the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds, and 
bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds. — Numbers xvii. 8. 


Was it the sigh of the southern gale 
That flushed the almond bough ? 
Brightest and first the young Spring to hail, 
Still its red blossoms glow. 


Was it the sunshine that woke its flowers 
With a kindling look of love ? 

Oh, far and deep, and through hidden bowers 
That smile of Heaven can rove. 

No, from the breeze and the living light 
Shut was the sapless rod ; 

But it felt in the stillness a secret might. 

And thrilled to the breath of God. 

E’en so may that breath, like the vernal air, 
O’er our glad spirits move ; 

And all such things as are bright and fair. 

Be the blossoms its track that prove ! 


THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA. 

REGINALD HEBER. 

And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and the horsemen, and all the host of 
Pharaoh that came into the Sea after them ; there remained not so much as one of them. 

But the children of Israel walked upon dry land in the midst of the sea; and the waters 
were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their left.— Exodcs xiv. 28, 29. 


On earth’s last margin throng the weeping train, 

Their cloudy guide moves on. — And must we sweep the main ? 
Mid the light spray the snorting camels stood, 

Nor bathed a fetlock in the nauseous flood. 

He comes, — their leader comes, — the man of God 
O’er the wide water lifts his mighty rod, 

And onward treads : the circling waves retreat 
In hoarse deep murmurs from his holy feet ; 

And the chafed surges, inly roaring, show 
The hard wet sand, and coral hills below. 

With limbs that falter, and with hearts that swell, 

Down, down they pass a deep and slippery dell ; 

Round them arise in pristine chaos hurled, 

The ancient rocks, the secrets of the world ; 

And flowers that blush beneath the ocean green, 

And caves, the sea-calf’s low-roofed haunts, are seen. 


THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA. 


177 


Down, safely down the narrow pass they tread, 

The seething waters storm above their head ; 

While, far behind retires the sinking day, 

And fades, on Edom’s hills, its latest ray. 

Yet not from Israel fled the friendly light, 

Or dark to them, or cheerless came the night ; 

Still in the van, along that dreadful road , 

Blazed, broad and fierce, the brandished torch of God. 

Its meteor glare a tenfold lustre gave 
On the long mirror of the rosy wave ; 

While its blest beams a sunlike heat supply. 

Warm every cheek, and dance in every eye — 

To them alone : — for Mizraim’s wizard train 
Invoke for light their monster gods in vain : 

Clouds heaped on clouds their struggling sight confine, 

And tenfold darkness broods along their line ; 

Yet on they go, by reckless vengeance led, 

And range unconscious through the ocean’s bed, 

Till, midway now, that strange and fiery form. 

Showed his dread visage lightening through the storm, 

With withering splendour blasted all their might, 

And brake their chariot- wheels, and marred their coursers’ 
flight. 

“ Fly, Mizraim, fly !” The ravenous floods they see, 

And fiercer than the floods, the Deity ! 

“ Fly, Mizraim, fly !” From Edom’s coral strand, 

Again the prophet stretched his dreadful wand : 

With one wild crash, the thundering waters sweep, 

And all is waves — a dark and lonely deep : 

Yet o’er those lonely waves such murmurs passed, 

As mortal wailing swelled the nightly blast, 


178 


THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA. 


And strange and sad the whispering surges bore 
The groans of Egypt to Arabia’s shore. 

Oh ! welcome came the morn, where Israel stood 
In trustless wonder by the avenging flood ! 

Oh ! welcome came the cheerful morn to show 
The drifted wreck of Zoan’s pride below ; 

The mingled limbs of men, the broken car, 

A few sad relics of a nation’s war : 

Alas, how few ! Then soft as Elim’s well, 

The precious tears of new-born freedom fell ; 

And he whose hardened heart alike had borne 
The hours of bondage and the oppressor’s scorn, 

The stubborn slave, by hope’s new beams subdued, 

In faltering accents sobbed his gratitude. 

Till kindling into warmer zeal around, 

The virgin timbrel waked its silver sound ; 

And in fierce joy, no more by doubt suppressed, 

The struggling spirit throbbed in Miriam’s breast, 

She, with bare arms, and fixing on the sky 
The dark transparence of her lucid eye — 

Poured on the winds of heaven her wild sweet harmony. 
“ Where now,” she sang, “ the tall Egyptian spear, 
Osiris’ sunlike shield and Zoan’s chariot, where 1 
Above their ranks the whelming waters spread ; 

Shout Israel! for the Lord hath triumphed.” 


HEBREW HYMN. 

SIR WALTER SCOTT. 


Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel, and said unto them, draw out and take you 
a lamb according to your families, and kill the passover. — Exodus xii. 21. 


When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 

Out from the land of bondage came, 

Her father’s God before her moved, 

An awful guide, in smoke and flame. 

By day along the astonished lands 
The cloudy pillar glided slow ; 

By night Arabia’s crimsoned sands 
Returned the fiery column’s glow. 

There rose the choral hymn of praise, 

And trump and timbrel answered keen ; 

And Zion’s daughters poured their lays, 

With priests’ and warriors’ voice between. 

No portents now our foes amaze, 

Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; 

Our fathers would not know Thy ways, 

And Thou hast left them to their own. 


180 


HEBREW HYMN. 


But present still, though now unseen, 

When brightly shines the prosperous day, 

Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen, 

To temper the deceitful ray. 

And oh ! When stoops on Judah’s path 
In shade and storm the frequent night ; 

Be Thou long-suffering, slow to wrath, 

A burning and a shining light ! 

Our harps we left by Babel’s streams, 

The tyrant’s jest, the Gentile’s scorn ; 

No censer round our altar beams, 

And mute our timbrel, trump and horn. 

But Thou hast said, “ The blood of goat, 
The flesh of rams I will not prize : 

A contrite heart, an humble thought 
Are more accepted sacrifice.” 




m 0) ss k a a m 11 'ir n ra co, ir un f 


DU (0) CC K, 









SMITING THE ROCK. 


RICHARD HOWITT. 


Behold, I will stand before thee there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shalt smite the 
rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. And Moses did so in 
the sight of the elders of Israel. 

And he called the name of the place Massah, and Meribah, because of the chiding of the 
children of Israel, and because they tempted the Lord, saying, “ Is the Lord among us or not ?” 
—Exodus xvii. 6, 7. 

When wandering in the wilderness, 

The people cried in their distress ; 

And ever was the murmuring cry, 

“ Give us drink, or else we die !” 

And eager was the cry, and loud ; 

A rebel, not a suppliant crowd ; 

Till Moses smote the rock, and burst 
The full stream forth unto their trust. 


Thus countless are the sufferers still, 
Sad wanderers of an evil will ; 

And still ascends the feverish cry, 

“ Give us to drink, or else we die.” 


16 


182 


SMITING THE ROCK. 


Has then the living rock been rent 
In vain — in vain its waters spent; 

The waters of eternal power, 

Which flowed, and flow unto this hour ? 

For thousands standing on its brink, 
Behold the stream who never drink ; 
Here drinking once, for ever more 
Their souls with blessings had run o’er. 


AARON ON MOUNT HOR. 


LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. 


And Moses did as the Lord commanded ; and they went up into Mount Hor in the sight of 
all the congregation. 

And Moses stripped Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar his son ; and Aaron 
died there in the top of the mount ; and Moses and Eleazar came down from the mount. 

And when all the congregation saw that Aaron was dead, they mourned for Aaron thirty 
days, even all the house of Israel.— Numbers xx. 27, 28, 29. 


The summer day declin’d o’er Edom’s vales, 

As on, through winding paths of lone Mount Hor, 

Three men went travelling slow. One moved with pain ; 
His white beard sweeping o’er his reverend breast, 

And ever, as the ascent steeper grew. 

More heavily did lean on those who lent 
Their kindly aid. 

I see the mitred brow 
Of the High Priest of Israel — and anon, 

As the slant sun sends forth a stronger beam 
Through the sparse boughs and cones of terebinth, 

His dazzling breastplate like a rainbow gleams. 


184 


AARON ON MOUNT HOR. 


Methinks he communes with the past, and calls 
The buried years. Each, like a flitting ghost, 

Comes with its memories up, and glides away. 

Once more the moan of Egypt meets his ear, 

As when her first-born died — the sullen surge 
Of the divided sea, enforced to leave 
Its ancient channels, and the affrighted cry 
Of Israel at red Sinai’s awful base. 

Their murmurings, and their mockings, and their strife, 
The sin at Meribah, — the desert-graves 
Fed with their recreant race — all rise anew, 

And pass before him as a troubled dream. 

But lo ! his features wear a brightening tinge, 

And o’er his high, anointed brow there gleams 
A transient smile. Caught he a glorious view 
Of that eternal Canaan, fair with light, 

And watered by the river of his God, 

Where was his heritage I Or stole the song 
Of Miriam’s timbrel o’er the flood of death, 

Wooing him onward through the last, faint steps 
Of wearied life ? 

And now they reach the spot 
Where he had come to die. Strange heaviness 
Settled around his spirit. Then he knew 
That death’s dark angel stretched a sable wing 
’Tween him and earth. The altar, and the ark, 

The unuttered mysteries seen within the vail, 

Those deep-set traces of his inmost soul, 

Grew dim and vanished. 


AARON ON MOUNT HOR. 


185 


So, with trembling hand, 

He hasted to unclasp the priestly robe, 

And cast it o’er his son, and on his head 
The mitre place ; while, with a feeble voice, 

He blessed, and bade him keep his garments pure 
From blood of souls. But then, as Moses raised 
The mystic breastplate, and that dying eye 
Caught the last radiance of those precious stones, 

By whose oracular and fearful light 
Jehovah had so oft his will revealed, 

Unto the chosen tribes whom Aaron loved 
In all their wanderings — but whose promised land 
He might not look upon — he sadly laid 
His head upon the mountain’s turfy breast, 

And with one prayer, half wrapped in stifled groans, 
Gave up the ghost. 

Steadfast beside the dead, 

With folded arms and face uplift to Heaven, 

The prophet Moses stood — as if by faith 
Following the sainted soul. No sigh of grief, 

Nor sign of earthly passion marked the man 
Who once on Sinai’s top had talked with God. 

— But the young priest knelt down, with quivering lip, 
And pressed his forehead on the pulseless breast, 

And mid the gifts of sacerdotal power 
And dignity entrusted to his hand, 

Remembering but the father that he loved — 

Long with his filial tears bedewed the clay. 


16 * 


MOSES SEEING THE LAND. 

LYRA AFOSTOLICA. 


And the Lord said unto him, “ This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, 
and unto Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine 
eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither.” 

So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to the word 
of the Lord. 

And Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when he died : his eye was not dim, nor 
his natural force abated. — Deuteronomy xxxiv. 4, 5, 7. 


My Father’s hope, my childhood’s dream ! 

The promise from on high ! 

Long waited for ! Its glories beam 
Now when my death is nigh. 

My death is come, but not decay ; 

Nor mind nor eye is dim ; 

The keenness of youth’s vigorous day 
Thrills in each nerve and limb. 


Blest scene ! Thrice welcome after toil — 
If no deceit I view ; 

Oh ! might my lips but press the soil, 

And prove the vision true ! 


MOSES SEEING THE LAND. 


187 


Its glorious heights, its wealthy plains. 

Its many-tinted groves, 

They call ! But He my steps restrains, 
Who chastens whom He loves. 

Ah ! now they melt — they are but shades — 
I die ! — Yet is no rest, 

Oh Lord ! in store, since Canaan fades 
But seen, and not possessed ? 


THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 


W. B. TAPPAN. 


And He buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor ; but no man 
knoweth of his sepulchre, unto this day.— Deoteronomv xxxiv. 6. 


To gorgeous burial goes the monarch, 

With scarf, and mute, and nodding plume, — 

The glitter, which flashed o’er his cradle, 
Settles around his costly tomb. 

To burial with a grievous mourning, 

The starred and laurelled hero goes ; 

And muffled drum and solemn trumpet 
Ring out a stricken nation’s woes. 

And brows of wisdom are uncovered, 

And hoary heads in grief are bent, 

While he to senseless clay is gathered, 

Whose spirit searched the firmament ; 

And trod the fields, thick sown with planets, 
And traced out nature’s secret laws; 

And followed, in their mighty courses, 

Suns, stars, and worlds, to their First Cause. 


THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 


189 


With simple rite, the village maiden, — 

Cut down, how like a flower at eve ! — 

In all her loveliness is buried, 

And rifled hearts are left to grieve. 

There’s hollow wo, there’s genuine feeling, 
When dust is given back to dust ; 

Some are resigned by sweet Religion, 

Some acquiesce, because they must. 

Yet of the burial Time has witnessed, 

None in simplicity may vie, 

None in their state with that of Moses, 

Who went up Nebos’ top to die. 

What lofty obsequies were rendered 

That hour when Darkness held the pall ! 

What pomp, where stood, in clouds pavilioned, 
The silent, present Lord of All ! 

How blest the man, whose dust Jehovah 
Hid in a grave that’s yet untrod ! 

Thrice blessed he, that soul most happy, 
Whose life is hid, with Christ, in God ! 


THE REPLY OF RUTH. 


AMANDA M. EDMOND. 

And Ruth said, “ Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee : for 
whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people shall be my 
people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried : the 
Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.”— Ruth i. 16, 17. 


Entreat me not ! entreat me not ! 

I cannot go from thee ; 

Oh ! dreary, dreary is my lot, 

If thou art not with me. 

Why dost thou ask me ? Have I e’er 
Been less to thee than true ? 

I, from whose heart thine image ne’er 
A moment’s absence knew. 

Hast thou forgot that age has set 
His seal upon thy brow ? 

Though beauty’s traces linger yet, 

To show what once wert thou ; 

Thy tottering step, thy trembling hand, 
Thine eyes he dim hath made : 

How wilt thou reach a stranger land 
Without thy wonted aid ? 


THE REPLY OF RUTH. 


191 


Hast thou forgotten her who gives 
To thee the strength of youth, 

As thou hast lived for her, who lives 
For thee, thy faithful Ruth? 

Hast thou forgotten her who sings 
Thy griefs and cares away, 

Till tardy moments spread their wings 
And speed the closing day ? 

Thou shalt not wander forth alone 
To toil, and beg for bread, 

On changeful fortune’s bounty thrown 
While I am richly fed. 

No ! where thou goest, I will go, 

Where other mountains rise, 

And other waters darkly flow, 

The world before us lies. 

How could I love the light of home, 

The hearthstone kindling warm, 

And know that thou wert forced to roam, 
Exposed to every storm ? 

Sleep would not come on wings of peace, 
With wreaths of balmy flowers ; 

My soul to seek thee would not cease, 

All through the midnight hours. 

And where thou livest, I will live, 

In some wild mountain’s cave, 

Where passing storms a tribute give, 

And gloomy cedars wave. 


192 


THE REPLY OF RUTH. 


The hand that kindly succours thee, 
Shall for my wants provide ; 

Thy home, though rough and rude it be, 
Shall shelter me beside. 

And where thou diest I will die, 

Within our own sweet land, 

Or ’neath a sterner, colder sky, 

Or on a burning sand. 

Together may our fleeting breath 
To Israel’s God be given, 

T ogether may w r e sleep in death, 
Together wake in Heaven. 

Oh let me share thy weight of wo, 

The burden of thy care, 

My heart shall never weary grow, 

Or shrink its load to bear. 

I cannot, cannot part with thee, 

Above, below the sod — 

Thy people shall my people be, 

Thy God shall be my God ! 


THE PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN. 

JOSEPH H. CLINCH. 

And the priests that bare the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in 
the midst of Jordan, and all the Israelites passed over on dry ground, until all the people 
were passed clean over Jordan. — Joshua iii. 17. 


The hosts of God, by Joshua led, 

Approached the Jordan’s eddying tide, 
And priests, with veiled and bended head, 
Bear to its grassy side 
The Ark, beneath whose cherub wings 
Are kept the pure and precious things ; — 
Behind the morn its radiance flings 
On bannered lance and buckler bright, 
And brazen trump, whose music rings 
To hail the dawning light. 

The flood before them boils and leaps 
Along its deep and rocky bed, 

But still the moving column keeps 
Onward its fearless tread, 

As though no foamy current flowed 
Between it and the blest abode, 


17 


194 


THE PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN. 


To which, by many a thorny road 
And desert plain its steps had passed, 

And which in morning’s glory glowed 
Green, beautiful and vast. 

And now the Levites’ sandalled feet, 

A re moistened by the river’s edge, 

Which curls and breaks with murmur sweet, 
Amid the bending sedge. 

Yet pause they not; with heart of prayer, 

And faith-supported strength, they bear 
That which the torrent shall not dare 
Submerge, or mar with angry tide — 

They know not how — but know that there 
God will a way provide. 

Their faith hath triumphed ; — with the sound 
Of rushing thunder backward fly 
The affrighted billows, and the ground 
They moistened now, is dry. 

Cleft in the midst the waters stand 
Obedient to their God’s command, 

Towering aloft on either hand, 

A glassy and resplendent heap, 

Where scenes which blessed the promised land 
In mirrored beauty sleep. 

And fearless down the dark defile 
The countless hosts of Israel go, 

And loud from trump and harp the while, 

The strains of gladness flow. 


THE PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN. 


195 


The depths, that voices never gave, 

But those of warning wind and wave, 

Send from their dark and oozy grave 
The echoing tread of joyous throngs, 
And praise of Him, whose hand can save, 
In loud triumphant songs. 

And now the farther shore they gain, 

And kneeling kiss the promised spot, 
Which, through long years of toil and pain 
Their anxious steps had sought. 

Whilst with a wild and maddening roar 
The tides, disjoined from shore to shore, 
Their long suspended waters pour 
To fill the yawning gulf between ; 

Closed is the bright mysterious door, 

By which they entered in. 

Christian, behold the typic shade 

Of that dim path prepared for thee — 
Behold in Jordan’s tide displayed 
Death’s overflowing sea. 

Thou treadest still life’s desert plain 
In toil and sorrow, care and pain ; 

Trials and doubts and fears maintain 
With thee a fierce and bitter strife, 

And but for heavenly aid would gain 
The conquest o’er thy life. 

Yet soon that toilsome war shall cease, 

And thou beside the flood shall stand, 


196 


THE PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN. 


Beyond whose waves are realms of peace, 
A pure and holy land. 

But if thou still hast kept the Ark 
Of God before thee as a mark, 

Fear not the troubled waters dark, 

Howe’er they rage and chafe and roar ; 
On that mysterious voyage embark. 

And God will guide thee o’er. 

Pass boldly on in faith and prayer. 

And waves of doubt and floods of fear 
Shall part and leave a passage there 
To changeless glories near. 

The dim obscurity shall fail 

In death’s dark pass and shadowy vale. 

And thou, with gladdened eye, shall hail 
Bright glimpses of the glorious things 
Which lie beyond, and render pale 
The angel’s flashing wings. 

And when thou’st gained that blessed shore. 
For ever freed from sin and pain. 

Death’s cheated waves shall hiss and roar. 
Mingling their streams again. 

Thence ever closed, that shadowy door 
Shall entrance give to earth no more — 

But thou shalt reach the golden floor 
By Jesus lit, and angels trod. 

Ever and ever to adore 
Thy Saviour and thy God. 


THE MIRACLE AT GIBEON. 


JOSHUA B. VAN SCHAICK. 


Then spake Joshua to the Lord in the day when the Lord delivered up the Amorites before 
the children of Israel, and he said in the sight of Israel, “Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, 
and thou, Moon, in the valley of Ajalon.” 

And the sun- stood still, and the moon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon 
their enemies. Is not this written in the book of Jasher? So the sun stood still in the midst 
of heaven, and hasted not to go down about a whole day. 

And there was no day like that before it or after it, that the Lord hearkened unto the voice 
of a man : for the Lord fought for Israel.— Joshua x. 12, 13, 14. 


The day rose clear on Gibeon. Her high towers 
Flash’d the red sunbeams gloriously back, 

And the wind-driven banners, and the steel 
Of her ten thousand spears caught dazzlingly 
The sun, and on the fortresses of rock 
Play’d a soft glow, that as a mockery seem’d 
To the stern men who girded by its light. 
Beth-Horon in the distance slept, and breath 
Was pleasant in the vale of Ajalon, 

Where armed heels trod carelessly the sweet 
Wild spices, and the trees of gum were shook 
By the rude armour on their branches hung. 
Suddenly in the camp, without the walls, 


17 * 


108 


THE MIRACLE AT GIBEON. 


Rose a deep murmur, and the men of war 
Gathered around their kings, and “ Joshua ! 

From Gilgal, Joshua !” was whispered low, 

As with a secret fear, and then, at once, 

With the abruptness of a dream, he stood 
Upon the rock before them. Calmly then 
Raised he the helm, and with his temples bare, 

And hands uplifted to the sky, he prayed : 

“ God of this people, hear ! and let the sun 
Stand upon Gibeon, still ; and let the moon 
Rest in the vale of Ajalon !” He ceased : 

And lo ! the moon sits motionless, and earth 
Stands on her axis, indolent. The sun 
Pours the unmoving column of his rays 
In undiminished heat ; the hours stand still ; 

The shade hath stopped upon the dial’s face ; 

The clouds and vapours, that at night are wont 
To gather and enshroud the lower earth, 

Are struggling with strange rays, breaking them up, 
Scattering the misty phalanx, like a wand, 

Glancing o’er mountain tops, and shining down 
In broken masses on the astonished plains. 

The fevered cattle group in wondering herds ; 

The weary birds go to their leafy nests, 

But find no darkness there, and wander forth 
On feeble, fluttering wing, to find a rest ; 

The parch’d, bak’d earth, undamped by usual dews, 
Has gaped, and cracked, and heat, dry, mid-day heat, 
Comes like a drunkard’s breath upon the heart. 

On with thy armies, Joshua ! The Lord 
God of Sabaoth is the avenger now ! 


THE MIRACLE AT G I B E O N. 


199 


His voice is in the thunder, and his wrath 
Poureth the beams of the retarded sun. 

With the keen strength of arrows, on their sight. 
The unwearied sun rides in the zenith sky ; 
Nature, obedient to the Maker’s voice, 

Stops, in full course, all her mysterious wheels. 
On ! till avenging swords have drunk the blood 
Of all Jehovah’s enemies, and till 
Thy banners in returning triumph wave ; 

Then yonder orb shall set mid golden clouds, 
And, while a dewy rain falls soft on earth, 

Show in the heavens the glorious bow of God, 
Shining, the rainbow banner of the skies. 


DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH. 


HENRY HART MILMAN. 


Judges v. 


Thus sang Deborah and Barak, son of Abinoam, 

In the day of the victory thus they sang : 

That Israel hath wrought her mighty vengeance, 
That the willing people rushed to battle, 

Oh, therefore, praise Jehovah ! 

Hear, ye kings ! give ear, ye princes ! 

I to Jehovah, I will lift the song, 

I will sound the harp to Jehovah, God of Israel ! 
Jehovah ! when thou wentest forth from Seir ! 
When thou marched’st through the fields of Edom ! 
Quaked the earth, and poured the heavens, 

Yea, the clouds poured down with water : 

Before Jehovah’s face the mountains melted, 

That Sinai before Jehovah’s face, 

The God of Israel. 


DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH. 


201 


In the days of Shamgar, son of Anath, 

In Jael’s days, untrodden were the highways, 

Through the winding bypath stole the traveller ; 

Upon the plains deserted lay the hamlets, 

Even till that I, till Deborah arose, 

Till I arose, in Israel a mother. 

They chose new gods : 

W ar was in all their gates ! 

Was buckler seen, or lance, 

’Mong forty thousand sons of Israel ? 

My soul is yours, ye chiefs of Israel ! 

And ye, the self-devoted of the people. 

Praise ye the Lord with me ! 

Ye that ride upon the snow-white asses, 

Ye that sit to judge, on rich divans. 

Ye that plod on foot the open way. 

Come meditate the song. 

For the noise of plundering archers by the wells of water. 
Now they meet and sing aloud Jehovah’s righteous acts ; 
His righteous acts the hamlets sing, upon the open plains, 
And enter their deserted gates the people of Jehovah. 

Awake, Deborah \ Awake ! 

Awake, uplift the song ! 

Barak, awake ! and lead your captives captive, 

Thou son of Abinoam l 

With him a valiant few went down against the mighty, 
With me Jehovah’s people went down against the strong. 


202 DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH. 

First Ephraim, from the mount of Amalek, 

And, after thee, the bands of Benjamin ! 

From Machir came the rulers of the people, 

From Zebulon, those that bear the marshal’s staff ; 
And Issachar’s brave princes came with Deborah, 
Issachar, the strength of Barak : 

They burst into the valley on his footsteps. 

By Reuben’s fountains there was deep debating — 
Why sat’st thou idle, Reuben, mid thy herd stalls? 
Was it to hear the lowing of thy cattle? 

By Reuben’s fountains there was deep debating — 

And Gilead lingered on the shores of Jordan — 
And Dan, why dwelled he among his ships ? — 
And Asser dwelled in his sea-shore havens, 

And sate upon his rock precipitous. 

But Zebulon was a death-defying people, 

And Naphthali from off the mountain heights. 

Came the kings and fought, 

Fought the kings of Canaan 
By Tannach, by Megiddo’s waters, 

For the golden booty that they won not. 

From the heavens that fought ’gainst Sisera, 

In their courses fought the stars against him : 

The torrent Kishon swept them down, 

That ancient river Kishon. 

So trample thou, my soul, upon their might. 


DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH. 


203 


Then stamped the clattering hoofs of prancing horses 
At the flight, at the flight of the mighty. 

Curse ye Meroz, saith the angel of the Lord, 

Curse, a twofold curse upon her dastard sons ; 

For they came not to the succour of Jehovah, 

To the succour of Jehovah ’gainst the mighty. 

Above all women blest be Jael, 

Heber the Kenite’s wife, 

Over all the women blest, that dwell in tents. 

Water he asked — she gave him milk, 

The curded milk, in her costliest bowl. 

Her left hand to the nail she set, 

Her right hand to the workman’s hammer — 

Then Sisera she smote — she clave his head ; 

She bruised — she pierced his temples. 

At her feet he bow’d ; he fell ; he lay ; 

At her feet he bow’d ; he fell ; 

Where he bow’d, there he fell dead. 

From the window she looked forth, she cried, 

The mother of Sisera, through the lattice : 

“ Why is his chariot so long in coming ? 

Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ?” 

Her prudent women answer’d her — 

Yea, she herself gave answer to herself— 

“ Have they not seized, not shared the spoil ? 

One damsel, or two damsels to each chief? 

To Sisera a many-coloured robe, 


204 


DEBORAH’S HYMN OF TRIUMPH. 


A many-coloured robe and richly broider’d, 
Many-coloured and border’d round the neck.” 

Thus perish all thine enemies, Jehovah ! 

And those who love thee, like the sun shine forth, 
The sun in all his glory. 


THE VOICE OF GOD. 


EMILY TAYLOR. 

And the Lord came, and stood and called as at other times, “Samuel, Samuel.” Then 
Samuel answered, “ Speak ; for thy servant heareth.” — 1 Samuel iii. 10. 


“ Speak, Lord !” the youthful prophet humbly cried ; 
“ Thy servant hears !” 

And instant, hark ! the Voice Divine replies, 

Its will declares, — 

No other ear in all that temple’s round 
Receives the deep, impressive, solemn sound ; 

The sacred tribe, the aged priest passed by, 

God stands revealed to youthful piety. 

He comes no more to rouse the outward ear 
At dead of night ; 

No fearful dream his purposed act makes clear, 

To mortal sight : — 

But wheresoe’er man seeks to meet him, still 
A voice is near him whispering of his will, 


18 


206 


THE VOICE OF GOD. 


And ever as he calls on God to “speak,” 

That inward voice will nature’s silence break. 

Yes, Christian, He whose voice then spoke on earth, 
Still speaks to thee ; 

Whether in sweetest music warbling forth 
From every tree, 

Or in the stillness of the evening hour, 

Or when the tempest gathers all its power, 

Or when the sea its awful voice uprears, 

Be thine to answer, “ Speak, thy servant hears.” 

In all thy varying portion in the strife 
Twixt earth and heaven, 

Or when sweet gleamings of a better life 
To thee are given, 

When hard the conflict, dim the distant end, 

No light to cheer thee, at thy side no friend, 

Yet hark ! e’en now, in answer to thy prayer, 

The voice, the voice of Love Divine is there ! 

Or when the page of truth, before thee spreads 
Its chastened light. 

And some reviving promise round thee sheds 
Hopes clear and bright, 

There speaks the Gospel A uthor : to that word, 
Favoured disciple of a pitying Lord, 

Bend, meekly bend, a still, attentive ear : 

’Tis his to speak ; with reverence thine to hear. 


THE VOICE OF GOD. 


207 


Thankful for this, thy destined path pursue, 

Or dark, or bright ; 

Till faith, while glory bursts upon the view, 

Is lost in sight : 

Till then, with ever-w 7 akeful care abide 
By the least whispers of thy heavenly Guide ; 

For still, when followed most, that Voice shall be 
Strength, comfort, peace, and blessedness to thee. 


THE PROPHETS. 


Despise not propbesyings. — 1 Thessalonians v. 20. 


“ Thus saith the Lord,” the most authoritative formula with 
which man could address his fellow-mortals, was a warrant 
which the ancient Jewish Prophets could assume, only under 
the most unmistakeable evidence that they were indeed bearing 
to his people, the direct message of Him who was King in 
Israel. The Divine Law promulgated by Moses, imposed the 
penalty of death upon the unwarranted assumption of the 
Divine Mission. The tests provided were so strict, and so 
effectually guarded against imposture, that the remarkable fact 
is presented of the extinction of the Prophets, while the Levi- 
tical race increased in their exactions and grew insolent in 
their interpolations and traditions. The spirit of prophecy 
once departed, the descendants of those who killed the Prophets 
bore evidence to their past existence, by building tombs to the 
memory of the men who had left few representatives on earth, 
and who, as a class, had passed away. Had the Prophets been 
impostors, there could have offered no better harvest for their 
impositions than the decline of the Jewish state; but when 


THE PROPHETS. 


209 


God withdrew his presence, and spake no more with man, 
face to face, the Schools of the Prophets were succeeded by 
the Synagogue, and the teachings of the Scribes and Phari- 
sees ; and the declaration of the will of Heaven was sup- 
planted by cumbersome and weary glosses upon the sacred 
writings, and by the invention of traditions, which rendered 
the word of God of none effect. 

The peculiar Government of the Jews in the earlier centu- 
ries of their history, w^hen Jehovah held direct communication 
with his creatures, is one of the most wonderful topics of the 
old Testament History. The Prophets and leaders of the 
Hebrews could not but discourse in the sublimest strains of 
poesy, since their utterance was prompted by the Holy Spirit. 
In vain may uninspired tongues aspire to the language which 
flowed from such dictation. It was God who spake by the 
Prophets, and man may not strive to imitate. 

The mind pictures to itself, as the favourite figure of a seer, 
a calm and holy old man ; serene in the conscious support of 
heavenly strength, gentle in pity to the mortals he was ad- 
dressing, and sedate and collected, in the awful dignity of 
Heaven’s ambassador. No poisonous exhalations transported 
the Prophets to madness ; no noxious draughts stole their 
senses, and fired their imaginations ; no demented enthusiasm 
converted them into men beside themselves. But when they 
would speak the words of the great Jehovah, they studied to 
avoid all excitement, and to divest themselves of every influ- 
ence which could interfere with the uninterrupted delivery of 
the message which they were charged to bear to the people. To 
soothe their minds into the heavenly calm which the prophetic 
utterance required, we find that sacred music was cultivated 

18 * 


210 


THE PROPHETS. 


in the schools of the Prophets. And the same agent was also 
employed to wake their minds when dormant, into a pure and 
heavenly ecstacy ; for when they would speak of God’s power, 
and declare his glory, they aroused the spirit of prophecy by 
singing of his wondrous majesty, and awaking the harp to the 
song of thanksgiving. Employed in praise, or moving in pro- 
phecy, David calls his tongue “ My Glory !” Speech, the 
attribute which distinguishes man above the brutes; which 
places him even above the mighty, but silent works of nature ; 
which enables him to impart to his fellow-mortals the thoughts 
which possess his own soul, and to address the Omnipotent in 
the language of confession, of supplication, and of thanks- 
giving, is aptly styled the Glory of the man who recognises 
the power and goodness of his Creator, in the right use of the 
great and precious gift. 

In the Sacred Canon, certain well-known books are desig- 
nated as prophetical. But it is not in these alone that we find 
the traces of prophecy. God, it is declared, spake by the 
mouths of his holy Prophets since the world began . The first 
prophecy recorded, is in the words of Jehovah himself, to our 
erring Parents, when he declared the great and consolatory 
triumph of the Seed of the Woman over the Serpent. It was 
this prediction which supported the righteous through the long 
years when they waited for his salvation in the darkness and 
wickedness of successive evil and corrupt generations. This 
great declaration was the soul of prophecy; for unto it all 
other predictions have ever been subordinate. From this all 
prophecy derives its weight and consequence. To this Jesus 
referred upon the Cross, when he said of the work of redemp- 
tion — “It is finished!” Of this the glory which shall be re- 


THE PROPHETS. 


211 


vealed will be the consummation. When the Christian, disen- 
thralled from the clogs of sense, shall rejoice in the perfect 
bliss of Heaven, the light which dawned amid the darkness of 
the Garden of the Lord, dishonoured by man’s transgression, 
will be recognised by the Redeemed as the “ Dayspring from 
on high,” — whose brightness, growing more and more unto 
the perfect day, will be known in its fulness in Heaven, where 
“ the Lamb shall be the light thereof.” 

The time during which the Prophets flourished, whose books 
are in the canon, extends from 856 to 420 years before Christ. 
The order in which they prophesied is not that in which they 
stand in the Bible, no chronological reference being preserved 
in this respect. Much diligent study has been devoted to 
fixing their respective epochs; and the commonly received, 
and undoubtedly correct order is as follows: Jonah, Amos, 
Hosea, Isaiah, Joel, Micah, Nahum, Zephaniah, Jeremiah, 
Habakkuk, Daniel, Obadiah, Ezekiel, Haggai, Zechariah, and 
Malachi. A common division of the prophetical books is into 
the four greater and the twelve minor; a distinction which 
does not indicate any less authority for the one class than for 
the other, but which refers entirely to the length of that por- 
tion of their writings which has come down to us. Indeed, 
for some of the most valuable parts of the sacred prophetical 
literature we are indebted to what are termed the minor 
prophets. Beside these sixteen, we have record or traces of 
very many more, — the Jews reckoning forty-eight prophets in 
all, and forty-seven prophetesses; but if we include, as we 
may, the elders of the Jewish nation, and the fathers of the 
human race, the number of prophets swells indefinitely. Many, 
as the reader will remember, are referred to in the Scriptures, 
who are not designated by name. 


212 


THE PROPHETS. 


The Prophets existed as a distinct class in the Jewish com- 
munity, celebrated for self-denial, temperance, and a contempt 
for worldly honours and advancement, which placed them 
above fear, and superior to the desires of the world. There 
were some striking exceptions, among those claiming the 
virtues and wearing the apparel of the Prophets, to the holi- 
ness for which they were remarkable ; but those exceptions 
were visited with the punishment which their unfaithfulness 
or their imposture incurred. There are also instances given 
in which bad men were endued for a special mission with the 
spirit of prophecy, and became the unwilling heralds of God’s 
truth, as in the case of Balaam. 

The Prophets were not only the predictors of future events, 
but the stern reprovers of the king upon his throne, and the 
people in their wickedness. They were also the direct mes- 
sengers of comfort and consolation to the good and just in 
their affliction, of support in their doubt and despondency. 
Not unfrequently were they also the counsellors of monarchs 
and warriors. Indeed their predictions seem often to have 
been subordinate to their duty of reproof and exhortation. It 
was not to gratify the itching ears of man, ever anxious to 
pry into futurity ; it was not to minister to an idle curiosity, 
that the veil was lifted from the eyes of the Hebrew Seers. 
They declared future events as the warrant of their Divine 
mission, resting the genuineness of their claim to inspiration 
upon the fulfilment of the prophecies which they pronounced. 
It was this consideration that drove the rebellious prophet 
Jonah away from his duty, for he feared that the goodness of 
God, and the repentance of the wicked city, would make him 
appear to the people a pretender, and a false alarmist. 

In many methods did Heaven vouchsafe to the Prophets 


THE PROPHETS. 


213 


that evidence of the Divine support which should give them 
authority and credibility with the people. As they were the 
uncompromising denouncers of vice and idolatry, all these 
favourable influences were needed in their behalf ; and all 
were not sufficient to protect them from the rage of those 
who were rebuked by their words, or shamed by their ex- 
amples. Stupendous miracles were performed by them, and 
for their support, so that while their lives challenged the inves- 
tigation of man, they were granted also the open and signal 
approval of Heaven. 

The writings of the Prophets are valuable as among the 
most appreciable evidences of the authenticity and the divine 
origin of the Sacred Scriptures. That the prophecies were 
delivered anterior to the events which they describe cannot 
be denied without setting aside all the rules by which we 
determine the truth of history; and in the fact that sceptics 
have laboured to show that some of the most remarkable pre- 
dictions were no predictions, but narratives written after the 
events they foreshadow, is an unwilling admission from the 
enemies of the Bible, to the fulfilment of the prophecies. The 
fact is conceded that if prophecies they are correct, ill the 
very effort to prove that they are not prophecies but narra- 
tives. 

In this point of view the writings of the Prophets, primarily 
addressed to the children of Israel, are as valuable to us as to 
them. To us, as to them, the fact that “ the Word of God 
came” to Holy Men of old, is one of momentous import. 
The Prophets are recognised by the Apostles as among the 
foundations of that church of which Jesus Christ is the chief 
Corner Stone. The Prophets testified of Him who should 


214 


THE PROPHETS. 


come into the world ; and the testimony, commencing when 
the world began, will not have completed its appointed work 
until the heavens shall be rolled up as a scroll, and faith, by 
which we know in part, and prophesy in part, shall be super- 
seded by that knowledge, by which we shall know, even as 
we are known. 


DAVID’S TRIUMPH.* 

HANNAH MORE. 

' And the men of Israel said, “ Have ye seen this man that is come up? surely to defy Israel 
is he come up: and it shall be, that the man who killeth him, the king will enrich him with 
great riches, and will give him his daughter, and make his father’s house free in Israel.” — 
1 Samuel xvii. 25 . 

And it came to pass, as they came, when David was returned from the slaughter of the 
Philistine, that the women came out of all the cities of Israel, singing and dancing, to meet 
King Saul, with tabrets, with joy, and with instruments of music. 

And the women answered one another as they played, and said, “ Saul hath slain his thou- 
sands and David his ten thousands.” 

And Saul was very wroth, and the saying displeased him ; and he said, “ They have as- 
cribed unto David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed but thousands: and what can 
he have more but the kingdom?” — 1 Samuel xviii. 6, 7, 8. 


David. Oh King ! I would not aught from favour claim, 

Or on remembered services presume ; 

But on the strength of my own actions stand 
Ungraced and unsupported. 

Abner. Well he merits 

The honours which await him. Why, oh King, 

Dost thou delay to bless his doubting heart 

With his well-earned reward? Thy lovely daughter, 

By right of conquest his ! 


* See Frontispiece. 


216 


DAVID’S TRIUMPH. 


Saul. (To David.) True, thou hast won her, 

She shall be thine. Yes, a king’s word is past. 

David. Oh boundless blessing ! When shall she be mine, 

For whom contending monarchs might renounce 
Their slighted crowns ? 

[Chorus of Hebrew women heard in the distance. 
Saul. How ’s this ? What sounds of joy 

Salute my ears ? What means this needless pomp ? 
This merry sound of tabret and of harp ? 

What mean these needless instruments of triumph ? 
These women who in fair procession move, 

Making sweet melody ? 

Abner. To pay due honour 

To David are they come. 

Saul. (Aside.) A rival’s praise 

Is discord to my ear ! They might have spared 
This idle pageantry ; it wounds my soul ! 

Prepare ! Y our festal rites prepare ! 

Let your triumphs rend the air ! 

Idol gods shall reign no more : 

We the Living God adore ! 

Let heathen hosts on human helps repose, 

Since Israel’s God has routed Israel’s foes. 

Let remotest nations know 
Proud Goliath’s overthrow. 

Fall’n, Philistia, is thy trust, — 

Dagon mingles with the dust ! 

Who fears the Lord of Glory, need not fear 
The brazen armour, or the lifted spear. 


DAVID’S TRIUMPH. 


217 


See the routed squadrons fly ! 

Hark the clamours rend the sky ! 

Blood and carnage stain the field ! 

See the vanquished nations yield ! 

Dismay and terror fill the frightened land, 

While conquering David routs the trembling band. 

Lo ! upon the tented field, 

Royal Saul has thousands killed ! 

Lo ! upon th’ ensanguined plain, 

David has ten thousands slain ! 

Let mighty Saul his vanquished thousands tell, 
While tenfold triumphs David’s victories swell. 


19 


THE CALL OF DAVID. 

LYRA APOSTOLICA. 

And he sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful counte- 
nance, and goodly to look to. And the Lord said, “Arise, anoint him: for this is he.”— 
1 Samuel xvi. 12. 


Latest born of Jesse’s race, 

Wonder lights thy bashful face, 

While the prophet’s gifted oil 
Seals for thee a path of toil. 

We, thy angels, circling round thee, 
Ne’er shall find thee as we found thee, 
When thy faith first brought us near 
In thy lion-fight severe. 

Go ! and mid thy flocks awhile 
At thy doom of greatness smile ; 

Bold to bear God’s heaviest load, 
Dimly guessing of the road, — 

Rocky road, and scarce ascended, 
Though thy foot be angel-tended ! 


THE CALL OF DAVID. 


219 


Double praise thou shalt attain. 

In royal court and battle-plain ; 

Then comes heart-ache, care, distress. 
Blighted hope and loneliness ; 

Wounds from friend and gifts from foe, 
Dizzied faith, and guilt, and wo. 
Loftiest aims by earth defiled, 

Gleams of wisdom, sin beguiled, 

Sated power’s tyrannic mood, 

Counsels shared with men of blood, 

Sad success, parental tears. 

And a dreary gift of years. 

Strange, that guileless face and form 
To lavish on the scarring storm ! 

Yet we take thee in thy blindness, 

And we harass thee in kindness ; 

Little chary of thy fame, — 

Dust unborn may bless or blame, — 

But we mould thee for the root 
Of man’s promised healing fruit ; 

And we mould thee hence to rise 
As our brother to the skies. 


THE RAISING OF SAMUEL. 

LORD BYRON. 

And he said unto her, “ What form is he of?” And she said, “ An old man cometh up; 
and he is covered with a mantle.” And Saul perceived that it was Samuel, and he stooped 
with his face to the ground, and bowed himself. 

And Samuel said to Saul, “ Why hast thou disquieted me, to bring me up ?” And Saul 
answered, “ I am sore distressed ; for the Philistines make war against me, and God is departed 
from me, and answereth me no more, neither by prophets, nor by dreams : therefore I have 
called thee, that thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do.”— 1 Samuel xxviii. 
14 , 15 . 


Thou whose spell can raise the dead, 
Bid the Prophet’s form appear. 

“ Samuel, raise thy buried head ! 
King, behold the phantom seer !” 

Why is my sleep disquieted ? 

Who is he that calls the dead ? 

Is it thou, oh king ? Behold 
Bloodless are these limbs and cold : 
Such are mine ; and such shall be 
Thine to-morrow, when with me, 


THE RAISING OF SAMUEL. 


221 


Ere the coming day is done, 

Such shalt thou be, such thy son. 
Fare thee well, but for a day, 

Then we mix our mouldering clay. 
Thou, thy race, lie pale and low, 
Pierced by shafts of many a bow ; 
And the falchion by thy side, 

To thy heart thy hand shall guide. 
Crownless, breathless, headless, fall, 
Son and sire, the House of Saul. 


19 * 


DAVID’S LAMENTATION. 


GEORGE SANDYS.* 


And David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and Jonathan his son. — 2 Samuel i. 17. 


Thy beauty, Israel, is fled, 

Sunk to the dead. 

How are the valiant fall’n ! The slain 
Thy mountains stain. 

Oh let it not in Gath be known ; 

Nor in the streets of Ascalon ! 

Lest that sad story should excite 
Their dire delight : 

Lest in the torrent of our wo 
Their pleasure flow : 

Lest their triumphant daughters ring 

Their cymbals, and curs’d paeans sing. 

You hills of Gilboa, never may 
You offerings pay; 

No morning dew, nor fruitful showers 
Clothe you with flowers : 


* Born 1577, died 1643. 


DAVID’S LAMENTATION. 


223 


Saul, and his arms, there made a spoil; 

As if untouched with sacred oil. 

The bow of noble Jonathan 
Great battles won : 

His arrows on the mighty fed, 

With slaughter red. 

Saul never raised his arm in vain ; 

His sword still glutted with the slain. 

How lovely ! oh how pleasant ! when 
They lived with men ! 

Than eagles swifter ; stronger far 
Than lions are : 

Whom love in life so strongly tied, 

The stroke of death could not divide. 

Sad Israel’s daughters, weep for Saul ; 
Lament his fall : 

Who fed you with the earth’s increase, 
And crowned with peace : 

With robes of Tyrian purple deck’d, 

And gems which sparkling life reflect. 

How are thy worthies by the sword 
Of war devour’d ! 

Oh Jonathan, the better part 
Of my torn heart ! 

The savage rocks have drunk thy blood : 

My brother ! oh how kind ! how good ! 


224 


DAVID’S LAMENTATION. 


Thy love was great : oh never more 
To man, man bore ! 

No woman, when most passionate, 
Loved at that rate ! 

How are the mighty falPn in fight ! 
They and their glory set in night ! 


ABSALOM. 


N. P. WILLIS. 

And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept : and 
as he went, thus he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had 
died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son !”— 2 Samuel xviii. 33. 


The waters slept. Night’s silvery veil hung low 
On Jordan’s bosom, and the eddies curled 
Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still 
Unbroken beatings of the sleeper’s pulse. 

The reeds bent down the stream ; the willow leaves, 
With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, 

Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems, 

Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, 

Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way, 

And leaned, in graceful attitudes, to rest. 

How strikingly the course of nature tells, 

By its light heed of human suffering, 

That it was fashioned for a happier world ! 

King David’s limbs were weary. He had fled 
From far Jerusalem ; and now he stood 
With his faint people, for a little rest, 

Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind 
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow 


226 


ABSALOM. 


To its refreshing breath ; for he had worn 
The mourner’s covering, and he had not felt 
That he could see his people, until now. 

They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, 
And spoke their kindly v^ords, and as the sun 
Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there. 

And bowed his head upon his hands to pray. 

Oh ! when the heart is full — when better thoughts 
Come crowding quickly up for utterance. 

And the poor common words of courtesy 
Are such a bitter mockery — how much 
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer ! 

He prayed for Israel — and his voice went up 
Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those 
Whose love had been his shield — and his deep tones 
Grew tremulous. But oh ! for Absalom — 

The proud, bright being who had burst away. 

In all his princely beauty, to defy 

The heart that cherished him, for him he poured, 

In agony that would not be controlled. 

Strong supplication, and forgave him there. 

Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. 

* * * * # 

The pall was settled. He who slept beneath 
Was straightened for the grave; and as the folds 
Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed 
The matchless symmetry of Absalom. 

His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls 
Were floating round the tassels, as they swayed 
To the admitted air, as glossy now 
As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing 
The snowy fingers of Judea’s daughters. 


ABSALOM. 


227 


His helm was at his feet : his banner, soiled 
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, 
Reversed, beside him : and the jewelled hilt, 
Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, 
Rested like mockery on his covered brow. 

The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, 

Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief, 

The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, 

And gazed upon the dark pall, steadfastly, 

As if he feared the slumberer might stir. 

A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade, 
As if a trumpet rang ; but, the bent form 
Of David entered, and he gave command, 

In a low tone, to his few followers, 

And left him with his dead. The king stood still, 
Till the last echo died : then, throwing off 
The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back 
The pall from the still features of his child, 

He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth 
In the resistless eloquence of wo : 

“ Alas ! my noble boy ! That thou should’st die ! 

Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair ! 

That death should settle in thy glorious eye, 

And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! 
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb ! 

My proud boy, Absalom ! 

“ Cold is thy brow, my son ! And I am chill, 

As to my bosom I have tried to press thee ! 
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, 

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, 


228 


ABSALOM. 


And hear thy sweet “ My Father !” from these dumb 
And cold lips, Absalom ! 

“ But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush 
Of music, and the voices of the young ; 

And life will pass me in the mantling blush, 

And the dark tresses to the soft wind flung ; — 

But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shall come 
To meet me, Absalom ! 

“ And oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart. 

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, 

How will its love for thee, as I depart. 

Yearn for thine ear, to drink its last deep token ! 

It were so sweet, amid death’s gathering gloom. 

To see thee, Absalom ! 

“ And now, farewell ! ’Tis hard to give thee up. 
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee ; — 
And thy dark sin ! — Oh ! I could drink the cup, 

If from this wo its bitterness had won thee. 

May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home. 
My lost boy, Absalom l” 

He covered up his face, and bowed himself 
A moment, on his child : then giving him 
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped 
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ; 

And as if strength were given him of God, 

He rose up calmly, and composed the pall 
Firmly and decently — and left him there — 

As if his rest had been a breathing sleep. 









I 



1 


• f 








* 











\ 


* 










I 





KHOd&ltf] FEE) IS Y D8 A V E R 










* 





ELIJAH FED BY RAVENS. 

JAMES GRAHAME. 

Sore was the famine throughout all the bounds 
Of Israel, when Elijah, by command 
Of God, journeyed to Cherith’s failing brook. 

No rain-drops fell, no dew-fraught cloud, at morn 
Or closing eve, creeps slowly up the vale ; 

The withering herbage dies ; among the palms 
The shrivelled leaves send to the summer gale 
An autumn rustle ; no sweet songster’s lay 
Is warbled from the branches ; scarce is heard 
The rill’s faint brawl. The prophet looks around 
And trusts in God, and lays his silver head 
Upon the flowerless bank ; serene he sleeps, 

Nor wakes till dawning; then with hands enclasped 
And heavenward face, and eyelids closed, he prays 
To Him who manna on the desert showered, 

To Him who from the rock made fountains gush : 
Entranced the man of God remains : till roused 
By sound of wheeling wings, with grateful heart, 

He sees the ravens fearless by his side 
Alight, and leave the heaven-provided food. 


20 


BARZILLAI THE GILEADITE. 

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. 


Let me be buried by the grave of my father, and of my mother.— 2 Samuel xix. 37. 


Son of Jesse ! — let me go, 

Why should princely honours stay me ? — 
Where the streams of Gilead flow, 

Where the light first met mine eye. 

Thither would I turn and die ; — 

Where my parents’ ashes lie, 

King of Israel ! — bid them lay me. 

Bury me near my sire revered, 

Whose feet in righteous paths so firmly trod. 
Who early taught my soul with awe 
To heed the Prophets and the Law, 

And to my infant heart appeared 
Majestic as a God : — 

Oh ! when his sacred dust 

The cerements of the tomb shall burst, 

Might I be worthy at his feet to rise 
To yonder blissful skies, 

Where angel hosts resplendent shine, 
Jehovah ! — Lord of hosts, the glory shall be thine. 


BARZILLAI THE GILEADITE. 


231 


Cold age upon my breast 
Hath shed a frost like death ; 

The wine-cup hath no zest, 

The rose no fragrant breath ; 

Music from my ear hath fled, 

Yet still the sweet tone lingereth there, 

The blessing that my mother shed 
Upon my evening prayer. 

Dim is my wasted eye 
To all that beauty brings, 

The brow of grace, the form of symmetry 
Are half-forgotten things ; — 

Yet one bright hue is vivid still, 

A mother’s holy smile, that soothed my sharpest ill. 

Memory, with traitor-tread, 

Methinks doth steal away 
Treasures that the mind hath laid 
Up for a wintry day. 

Images of sacred power, 

Cherished deep in passion’s hour, 

Faintly now my bosom stir : 

Good and evil, like a dream, 

Half obscured, and shadowy seem, 

Yet with a changeless love my soul remembereth her, 
Yea — it remembereth her : 

Close by her blessed side make ye my sepulchre. 


SOLOMON’S PRAYER. 


WILLIAM HODSON. 

But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, the heaven and heaven of heavens can- 
not contain thee ; how much less this house that I have builded ?— 1 Kings viii. 27. 


“ Shalt Thou reside 

In houses hands have fashioned ? No ; beyond 
Creation’s ample circuit, where the car 
Of day ne’er shed his all-enlivening beam, 

Thy power pervades and fills the endless void 
Of chaos and of night. Yet deign to accept 
This Temple, sacred to thy holy name, 

And Thou, who dwell’st on high, receive our prayers. 

“ Forgive our past backslidings. May we grieve 
No more that Holy Spirit, which has worked 
Unnumbered miracles for Israel’s sons. 

Protect thy chosen race from murderous snares 
Of proud deceitful men, who hunt for blood, 

As roams the famished lion for his prey. 

Arise, Oh King of kings, and disappoint 
Their malice, who unmindful of their God, 


SOLOMON’S PRAYER. 


233 


Thy awful majesty, Thy power defy, 

And bow the knee to Dagon ; who amid 
Their nightly orgies, chaunt in mad’ning choirs 
His might divine, and give to sculptur’d stones 
Thy glory and Thy name. Turn from these walls 
Their sacrilegious hands, whose impious rage 
Burns to defile these hallowed instruments, 

These vessels to Thy service consecrate. 

Oh let no blood to idols offer’d stain 
This holy altar, nor within these roofs, 

To other gods than Thee, let incense smoke. 
Descend, celestial spirits ! Ye who wait 
Around the throne of God ! descend, and guard 
This heaven-devoted shrine. 

“ Come, holy Love ! 

Meek angel ! daughter mild of Innocence 
And Truth ! leave, leave thy bright enthron’d abode 
On high, and with Religion, sainted maid ! 
Propitious guide amid life’s darksome vale 
Our wand’ring steps. Oh send Thy cherub, Hope, 
To chase from every contrite heart, the fiend 
Despair ; and let Thy mercy’s gentlest ray, 
Refreshing as the silver dew of heav’n 
Upon the drooping flow’rs, descend to soothe 
The weeping penitent. Breathe thro’ our souls 
Thy heav’nly ardour ; teach us to implore 
His tender mercies, whose paternal love 
Forgave our disobedience. 

“ May our hearts 

In duty firm, obsequious to His will, 

His laws obey, and to his name alone 
20* 


234 


SOLOMON’S PRAYER. 


Our adoration give, till, rapt beyond 
That starry canopy, where seraphs sweep 
Their living lyres, and sing in notes divine 
The endless wonders of creative pow’r, 

We join th’ immortal choir, and tune our harps 
To endless raptures, and eternal praise.” 

He ceas’d. When lo ! a mighty noise was heard 
Of rushing winds, and fire from heav’n consum’d 
The sacrifice. Upon the holy seat 
The Shechinah descended, and illum’d 
The Temple’s spacious walls with radiant glory. 

A burning cloud it seem’d, like that which erst 
Attended Judah’s sons, when, to avoid 
The galling load of Pharaoh’s iron sway, 

From Egypt’s land they fled. The unnumber’d host, 
Amazed at the sight, with holy awe 
Their faces veil’d, and prostrate on the ground 
In hallelujahs hymn’d Jehovah’s name, 

To Him alone ascribing majesty 

And pow’r. Jehovah’s name the vaulted roofs 

Rebound ; their acclamations pierce the skies, 

And with the smoke of sacrifice ascend, 

A grateful incense, to the throne of God. 


THE SHUNAMMITE. 


N. P. WILLIS. 

And he said unto his father, “ My head, my head.” And he said to a lad, •* Carry him to 
his mother.” 

And when he had taken him, and brought him to his mother, be sat on her knees till noon, 
and then died.— 2 Kings iv. 19, 20. 


They bore him to his mother, and he lay 
Upon her knees till noon — and then he died ! 

She had watched every breath, and kept her hand 
Soft on his forehead, and gazed in upon 
The dreamy languor of his listless eye, 

And she had laid back all his sunny curls. 

And kissed his delicate lip, and lifted him 
Into her bosom, till her heart grew strong — 

His beauty was so unlike death ! She leaned 
Over him now, that she might catch the low 
Sweet music of his breath, that she had learn’d 
To love when he was slumbering at her side 
In his unconscious infancy — 


236 


THE SHUNAMMITE. 


“ So still ! 

Tis a soft sleep ! How beautiful he lies, 

With his fair forehead, and the rosy veins 
Playing so freshly in his sunny cheek ! 

How could they say that he would die ! Oh God ! 
I could not lose him ! I have treasured all 
His childhood in my heart, and even now, 

As he has slept, my memory has been there, 
Counting like treasures all his winning ways — 
His unforgotten sweetness : — 


“ Yet so still ! — 

How like this breathless slumber is to death ! 

I could believe that in that bosom now 
There were no pulse, — it beats so languidly ! 

I cannot see it stir ; but his red lip ! 

Death would not be so very beautiful ! 

And that half smile — would death have left that there ? 
And should I not have felt that he would die ? 

And have I not wept over him ? — and pray’d 
Morning and night for him ? and could he die 1 
No — God will keep him ! He will be my pride 
Many long years to come, and his fair hair 
Will darken like his father’s, and his eye 
Be of a deeper blue when he is grown ; 

And he will be so tall that I shall look 
With such a pride upon him ! He to die !” 

And the fond mother lifted his soft curls, 

And smiled, as if ’twere mockery to think 
That such fair things could perish. — 


THE SHUNAMMITE. 


237 


Suddenly 

Her hand shrunk from him, and the colour fled 
From her fix’d lip, and her supporting knees 
Were shook beneath her child. Her hand had touch’d 
His forehead, as she dallied with his hair — 

And it was cold — like clay ! Slow, very slow, 

Came the misgiving, that her child was dead. 

She sat a moment, and her eyes were closed 
In a dumb prayer for strength, and then she took 
His little hand, and pressed it earnestly — 

And put her lip to his — and looked again 
Fearfully on him — and, then bending low, 

She whispered in his ear, “ My son ! — my son !” 

And as the echo died, and not a sound 
Broke on the stillness, and he lay there still — 
Motionless on her knee, — the truth would come ! 

And with a sharp, quick cry, as if her heart 
Were crush’d, she lifted him, and held him close 
Into her bosom— with a mother’s thought — 

As if death had no power to touch him there ! 

# # # # # 

The man of God came forth, and led the child 
Unto his mother, and went on his way. 

And he was there — her beautiful — her own — 

Living, and smiling on her — with his arms 
Folded about her neck, and his warm breath 
Breathing upon her lips, and in her ear 
The music of his gentle voice once more l 


THE TRANSLATION OF ELIJAH. 


ELIZABETH ROWE. 


And it came to pass, as they still went on and talked, that behold, there appeared a chariot 
of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder ; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind 
into heaven.— 2 Kings ii. 11. 


His lecture to the sad young prophets done. 

And last adieus, the reverend seer goes on, 

Obedient as the sacred instinct guides ; 

And now advanced to Jordan’s verdant sides : 

Elijah with his great successor stood, 

And gave a signal to the passing flood ; 

The obsequious waters stay, for well they know 
What to his high authority they owe. 

While wave on wave, with silent awe, crowds back, 
To leave a clean and spacious sandy track, 

Elijah on with his companion goes ; 

Behind them soon the crystal ridges close, 

No more reversed the troubled current flows. 

Then forward still they went, discoursing high 
Of heavenly bliss and immortality, 

When from a cloud breaks (like the purple dawn), 
By fiery steeds a fiery chariot drawn ; 

A glittering convoy, swift as that descends, 

And in an instant parts th’ embracing friends ; 


THE TRANSLATION OF ELIJAH. 


239 


To the bright car conducts the man of God, 

And mounts again the steep ethereal road. 

The passing triumph lightens all the air 
With ruddy lustre than high noon more fair. 

And paints the clouds, than evening beams more gay, 
Through which, with wondrous speed, they cut their way. 
Now lofty piles of thunder, hail, and snow, 

Th’ artillery of Heaven, they leave below ; 

Behold, the moon’s pale glimmering regency 
They leave, and now more free ascend the sky, 

Breathing again immortal air, nor here 
Resent the pressure of the atmosphere. 

By holy ecstacies, and flames intense, 

Here purged from all the dregs of mortal sense, 

With heavenly lustre eminently gay, 

Elijah wondering does himself survey : 

All o’er surveys himself, and then the skies, 

While new stupendous objects meet his eyes. 

With his new being pleased, thus, the first man 
As just to live and reason he began, 

On hills and valleys, groves and fountains gazed ; 

With skies and light thus ravished, thus amazed. 

But now the utmost firmament they cleave, 

And all the starry worlds behind them leave ; 

Hark ! angels sing ! of light appear new streaks ! 

Celestial day with gaudy splendour breaks ! 

On heaven’s rich, solid azure now they tread, 

The blissful paths that to God’s presence lead ; 

While, to the new inhabitant, all the way 
Loud welcomes on their harps the guardians play ; 

A thousand joyful spirits crowd to meet 
The glorious saint, and his arrival greet. 


L’ENVOI. 


EVENING TIME. 


JAMES MONTGOMERY. 


It shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be light.— Zechariah xiv. 7. 


At evening time let there be light : — 

Life’s little day draws near its close ; 

Around me fall the shades of night, 

The night of death, the grave’s repose ; 

To crown my joys, to end my woes, 

At evening time let there be light. 

At evening time let there be light : — 

Stormy and dark hath been my day ; 

Yet rose the morn benignly bright, 

Dews, buds, and flowers cheer’d all the way ; 
Oh for one sweet, one parting ray ! 

At evening time let there be light. 

At evening time there shall be light ; — 

For God hath said, — “ So let it be !” 

Fear, doubt, and anguish, take their flight. 

His glory now is risen on me ; 

Mine eyes shall his salvation see ; — 

’Tis evening time, and there is light. 

THE END. 


DEC 281949 



, ■/« . . * 4^ °n. ■/„ _ t * AF 


O *> 

riffil'l ‘W* ^ ** 

_c5> A* > ^P|lf|lli^ o rS A - 1 >P|||§Pf « ^ 

* oV ^ * *511© * ^ * <& 



•V 5 ^ 

4> ^*s * 
3^ ^ > 




^ r# ^ 


0 


S S 0 0^° s s * 9 < ~^p ' * * ' (5^ v sS * * T 'y ' * * " r0^° s ' V 7 * * " ' rP^ . s s V '* ^ 

^ x- <> * ^Qj§jj^fe ‘ * 9v v- 

V* .-, r- ^ $ 



- ^o v - 


* 0 ' % 



$ °*<- ^ ° 
o ■* o * x ^ \ V Q} y o * x ^ x^ 9^ 

" N> *<*<>, % V ^ “V ^ 

- av ,Wa^ <& a^ ^ 

:^MJJk c % <sr . 



* ^ 


++ $ 


p 



V ♦ < * 0 ' ^ 


r \ ^ A^ 


j !p <V 


& ^ - 

* .r# ^ *> 



» <£ 

c <& •& s ■% qs 

^y ✓. ''/**s s aCt ^ s s A^ 

c° V v s lSCJ^^> .rQ^.^v^^. cP .» 4 ^ 




% > 


o v 



* r '^p. Y ** 

r v^ Cr ° 




nH O 






^0^ * 



’^<36 0 

«> 0 -* * a. -A 

* y o ♦ x ^ xV v O, y o . x ^ \V 9>, ' 0 * ^ xV y * n °^U ^ 0 * k ^ . 

0 /• ^ V ' *. * * ° #• ^ V * * * 0 /■ V * °r ^ 

" « a '- f -•- %. & ,W*' %. A 




*- '^t. o x 

^ 9* c 

■a -o !> 

^ 9^ ' 0 , X ° V 

'O VS- ”/ - *^x V «- ^ 

%, .4. % *, » 

° <^<y 






# ^ - 



0, %' 0 ”^ v\ v »-», % 

,\W/, - % 

« «i z ^ ^ 



,C, 


5» 


^ Y /* y* v / Ny^y i ?P y Y /* ’V ^ y /* y* 

s s <■'' i as' A^ < k// ^ < ,s s A^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

0°’ v sS rp\' s **^ Cr S s Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 

- ^ <*. *P ' jM'<'^_ <■ <?> * '-m n,t». Maw onn^ 


* ^A0< 




,/? Treatment Date: May 2005 

PreservationTechnologies 


A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 


%. ,A *j 


9 i^oVx^tV 


til Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 





V 



s /y j 

* * CV s * * r 
> f r s S ^ ' '/ 

C * #T>iiw * v=^» 


^ * * s 


'"•^ <$ **••,%'•“'* N>V*° % "e 

W -*|ifc ^ - 

-.®0^" .«£ j 


> 

% 




* ,<y *%> % 


& j 


^ c5> 

_.. ,* > % ^ V 

** / A * S s 

° c cP 



V-* o 


%.# y 



«y ^ % _.. , _ 

$ s .., <t? 1 "'' J? 

v s I#^7*J /y ^ C/ ^ j&ilmJ's ^P 

;»• o< *i®l' '%o^ 


ij' <*' "> -wiyir v ( r 

/> s .., <-, 

► cV s ^ ^ 





$ ^ 



r- 

i ^ °- =/“- 

V * * * ° ^ % v * Y 

% % J 
» . 

o c3 -* 

£ % % _.. , ,_ 

* ' * * s s A° 

f CF s ^ * * r 
Kj V 

<*r 
O 

,V“' ‘ /■•-V-” 

** % / ; %4 

S> ^ 


$ 



: ^ o* 



k/‘*‘ ^ *<••,% 

\> ^ T>- <0 Cli ^ >» 


o <3 -* ^ 1^ ° c> aV 

. c/ 'S*^. *■ -t, -a/ < ^> s * ^r^w' * <iy 

^ ax ^ ^-ay ^ r \* v 



^ ^ \ 

*' 7 ,!** «b.’ 

v »-•»- ^ 


d5 Q. 



■L « '<>>. ^ 


V'**''r? 


\v OU 

V 


*. (£> & ^ ^ O-, 

, °' x & *\\».% 



A ^ °a,'* ; » - ^ v %^ v_ 




V. 




